THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

MEW  YORK  •    BOSTON  •   CHICAGO  •   DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •   BOMBAY  •   CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


THE  LAND  THEY 
LOVED 


BY 

G.  D.  CUMMINS 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1919 

All  rights  reserved 


COPTBieBT,  1919, 
Bv  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  August,  1919 


TO 
H.   AND   F. 

TWO  IRISHMEN  WHO  GAVE  THEIR  LIVES  IN 
GALLIPOLI  AND  FRANCE 


2061387 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

CHAPTER  I 

IT  was  a  windy  morning  and  the  steamer  lurched 
heavily  as  it  broke  its  way  through  the  menacing 
furrows  of  the  sea.  There  were  no  passengers  on 
deck  at  that  cold  early  hour,  and  Kate  Carmody, 
when  she  struggled  up  the  companion-way  and 
viewed  the  empty  steerage,  was  pleased  at  the 
thought  that  hers  would  be  a  solitary  watch  for 
the  land. 

Slipping  and  almost  falling  once  or  twice  she 
picked  her  way  across  the  deck.  Then  having 
got  a  firm  hold  of  the  handrail  she  gazed  out  over 
the  leaden  expanse  of  water.  She  was  feeling 
very  excited,  and  her  heart  beat  with  such  a  mad 
wild  throb  she  found  it  hard  to  keep  her  eyes 
fixed  on  the  horizon's  edge.  It  was  strange  to 
think  that  in  a  few  minutes'  time  Ireland  would 
appear  out  of  the  mists  and  that  in  two  days  or  so 
she  would  be  driving  through  Droumavalla  on  a 
side-car  —  driving  home.  There'd  be  Denis,  her 
half-brother,  feeding  the  calves,  maybe,  as  she 
drove  up  to  the  farm,  and  he  would  just  drop  his 
bucket  and  say,  "  Here's  Kate  come  back,  and  not 
a  bit  changed."  Denis  would  be  glad  to  see  her 
and  she  would  be  glad  to  see  him,  glad  to  see 
the  old  fields,  the  wide  yard,  the  outbuildings,  and, 


2  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

best  of  all,  the  white  square  house.  Five  years 
was  a  long  time  to  spend  in  the  States  without  sight 
of  your  own  people  and  your  own  land.  Good 
wages,  strange  and  wonderful  sights,  all  the  nov- 
elty of  a  new  life  did  not  quite  make  up  for  that 
gap  in  the  years.  Yet  Kate  would  not  have 
missed  such  an  experience  for  the  most  prosper- 
ous farm  in  Ireland.  She  had  had  her  ups  and 
downs,  and  had  had  to  face  privations,  tempta- 
tions, bard  work  and  long  hours;  on  the  whole  she 
had  been  fairly  happy,  but  never  in  her  life  had 
she  been  so  happy  as  now  when  she  was  turning 
her  face  towards  home. 

It  would  be  near  harvest-time  and  Denis  would 
be  glad  of  an  extra  hand.  She  had  always  been  a 
great  one  for  pitching  hay  and  corn  on  to  the 
carts  and  for  following  the  binder.  She  felt  sure 
it  would  come  quite  easy  to  her  again,  in  spite  of 
her  want  of  practice,  for  she  possessed  endurance 
and  strength  beyond  the  ordinary.  The  memory 
of  old  forgotten  times  came  drifting  back  to  her 
from  the  outlying  spaces  of  her  mind  as  she, 
watched  and  waited  now.  The  long  line  of  work- 
ers stooping  arrd  rising,  the  rustle  of  dry  hay  under 
her  hand,  the  beating  of  strong  sun  and  rain  in 
her  face,  the  race  against  time,  the  fear  in  their 
hearts,  the  ominous  banking  up  of  black  clouds  in 
the  west,  the  glow  of  exhaustion,  of  the  race  won, 
the  storm  of  rain  just  when  the  stocks  were  saved 
beating  upon  her  and  drenching  her  through. 
She  was  going  home  to  that;  her  heart  leaped 
with  joy  at  the  thought. 

Ah!  the  first  day  of  harvest  would  be  fine,  she 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  3 

assured  herself.  She  would  work  without  stop- 
ping to  take  breath,  and  only  when  her  lips  were 
stuck  together  with  the  drought  would  she  draw 
off  to  take  a  long  cool  drink  of  cold  tea  from  the 
can.  Then  she  would  go  on  again.  Oh!  she 
would  sweat  seven  skins  off  her  that  day  and  be 
as  stiff  as  an  old  hound  by  nightfall.  Then  best 
of  all  would  be  the  meeting  of  friends  in  the  vil- 
lage, the  boys  she  had  grown  up  with  standing  at 
the  cross-roads,  the  joking  and  "  funning  "  with 
them,  the  jigging  and  dancing  in  the  barn,  all  the 
old  times  and  tricks  back  again. 

Gradually  the  vision  passed  and  Kate  was  cog- 
nisant of  the  dull  sea  and  sky,  of  a  fine  drizzle  that 
was  penetrating  her  coat,  and  of  the  bitter  sting  of 
the  wind.  But  still  she  held  on  to  the  rail,  gaz- 
ing anxiously  over  the  waves,  her  tall,  straight 
figure  bending  and  swaying  a  little  with  each  mo- 
tion of  the  vessel. 

She  was  nearly  five  foot  eight  in  height,  with 
handsome  regular  features  and  a  stately  carriage 
that  seems  to  be  the  natural  heritage  of  so  many 
Irish  peasant-women,  and  which  had  been  inten- 
sified in  her  case  by  her  father's  admonitions. 
"  A  straight  back,  Kate,  will  give  you  a  bit  of 
pride.  There's  nothing  better  than  a  straight 
back  and  you  going  through  the  world."  She  had 
not  forgotten  his  words  and  was  as  erect  as  a 
soldier  on  parade  without  his  rigidity.  For  with 
this  straightness  of  carriage  there  was  a  looseness 
of  limb,  a  certain  deft  grace  in  all  her  movements 
that  made  her  a  remarkable  figure  in  a  crowded 
street. 


4  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

She  had  been  earning  good  wages  in  America 
and  her  mistress  had  promised  to  raise  them,  but 
for  some  time  past  she  had  felt  restless  and  dis- 
satisfied, and  one  afternoon  on  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  had  gone  to  the  steamship  office  and 
booked  her  passage  home.  There  was  a  craving 
in  her  blood  for  the  fields  and  wide  spaces,  and 
the  sight  of  old  faces,  the  sound  of  old  voices  were 
a  part  of  that  desire.  It  did  not,  however,  quite 
explain  her  hasty  action  in  throwing  up  a  good 
job  and  prospects  of  saving.  Behind  all  that  was 
the  feeling  that  she  had  not  yet  found  what  she 
wanted.  She  was  aware  of  a  queer  inarticulate 
desire  that  she  could  not  even  express  to  herself, 
that  it  did  not  seem  possible  to  satisfy  in  America. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  urgings  of  the  spirit  of  adven- 
ture, the  spirit  that  had  originally  drawn  her  to  a 
new  world  and  was  not  yet  sated,  and  coupled 
with  it  was  the  wish  to  feel  that  she  was  her  own 
mistress  again  as  in  the  old  barefooted  days  at  the 
farm. 

Kate  had  a  healthy  appreciation  of  independ- 
ence and  the  delights  of  being  one's  own  mistress. 
It  had  been  an  incentive  in  driving  her  across 
the  seas  from  Ireland  to  the  West.  For  when  her 
father  died,  though  she  had  got  her  share  of  land, 
the  house  had  gone  to  her  half-brother  Denis. 
He  had  pressed  her  to  live  on  with  him;  she  had 
refused:  he  would  be  getting  married  soon  she 
was  sure  and  what  would  her  position  be  then? 
Besides,  her  cousins  had  written  and  told  her 
America  was  the  only  place  for  a  smart  girl  like 
her.  Poor  prices  were  the  rule  for  farm  produce. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  5 

No  self-respecting  woman  could  stay  at  home 
scraping  a  living  under  the  circumstances.  She 
might  have  got  married,  there  had  been  more  than 
one  offer,  but  Kate  had  a  wild  free  spirit  and  she 
didn't  see  her  way  to  tying  herself  up  to  any  one 
at  that  time. 

She  had  never  fallen  in  love  with  any  man. 
She  could  not  imagine  herself  in  such  a  helpless 
condition  and  believed  she  had  too  much  common 
sense  to  fall  a  victim  to  such  foolery.  Yet  she 
liked  men's  company.  She  liked  to  look  at 
them;  she  appreciated  their  size  and  weight. 
She  was  also  interested  in  their  minds. 
They  weren't  like  a  lot  of  cackling  women 
always  picking  holes  in  each  other;  they  took  a 
broad  general  view  of  life  and  would  talk 
learnedly  about  politics.  They  studied  the  even- 
ing paper  and  got  their  views  from  it.  Women 
never  read  the  paper;  women  had  no  sense  or 
reason  in  them. 

Denis  had  not  married  —  possibly  because  there 
were  very  few  girls  in  Droumavalla.  As  in  many 
other  parts  of  Ireland,  they  either  emigrate,  go 
into  service  in  Dublin  and  other  cities,  or  enter 
a  convent.  Denis  was  something  of  Kate's  make, 
and  a  faithful  affection  without  passion  was  all 
that  was  possible  in  his  nature.  It  was  pleasant 
to  feel  he  was  still  in  a  sense  her  possession  be- 
cause he  was  still  unwed.  And  then  there  were 
his  three  great  friends,  Michael,  Steve  and  Eugene 
Turpin.  Eugene  had  been  her  own  age,  and  so 
it  had  been  her  habit  to  regard  him  merely  as  a 
boy  and  have  little  to  do  with  him.  But  the  other 


6  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

two  had  counted  for  much  in  her  life.  She  had 
watched  them  at  hurley  matches  and  taken  pride 
in  the  vast  sweep  of  their  cumauns,  and  many  a 
dance  she  had  footed  through  with  them.  They 
had  both  been  after  her,  each  confident  he  would 
succeed.  And  she  remembered  her  brother's 
words:  "  Kate,  is  it!  Let  me  tell  you  if  it's  Kate 
you're  after  you'll  find  a  white  blackbird  that 
never  flew  yet."  And  so  it  was,  she  had  surprised 
them  all,  for  in  the  heel  she  had  given  them  both 
the  slip,  making  off  to  America. 

Denis,  Michael,  Steve  and  Eugene !  A  glow 
of  tenderness  filled  her  heart.  Oh,  it  would  be 
good  to  be  seeing  those  fine  men  again.  There 
had  been  none  like  them  in  America,  none  to 
match  them  in  their  clear  blue  eyes,  fine  shoulders, 
great  strength  and  weight.  Her  eyes  filled  with 
tears  of  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  seeing  them 
and  joking  with  them,  at  the  thought  of  going 
back  to  the  old  free  life  on  the  farm. 

The  clouds  lifted  a  little,  a  ghostly  light  broke 
through  that  seemed  to  soften  the  wind  and  draw 
the  sting  from  it.  To  the  northeast  appeared  a 
dark  streak  of  land  that  was  without  any  definite 
outline,  without  any  light  or  shade,  and  like  a 
black  bold  streak  of  charcoal  edged  the  horizon 
line.  Kate  caught  in  her  breath  with  a  sudden 
gasp  of  joy,  and  then  she  laughed  aloud.  Ireland 
was  over  there,  and  in  two  days'  time  she  would 
be  driving  down  the  High  Street  of  Drouma- 
valla  —  driving  home. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  sun  had  begun  to  set  as  Kate  drove  up  to 
Rathmore;  and  the  white  house  was  all  in  a  pale 
glow  under  its  rays.  The  shadows  were  creeping 
up  the  oats  field  in  front  of  the  farm,  the  hovering 
light  streaking  the  heavy  heads  here  and  there 
with  a  fantastic  fire.  Kate  was  in  ecstasy  and 
could  scarcely  speak  from  emotion.  The  familiar 
hills,  the  little  village,  the  green  and  gold  pastures, 
old  people  standing  at  the  half-doors  of  their  cot- 
tages, wrinkled  friendly  faces  she  had  known  since 
childhood,  were  each  in  turn  a  fresh  joy  to  her,  and 
here  was  Denis  on  the  doorstep,  a  touch  of  grey 
in  his  hair,  the  slimness  of  youth  gone  from  him, 
but  with  the  same  straight  figure,  the  same  kindly 
eyes. 

"  A  welcome  before  you,  Kate,"  he  said,  and 
grasped  her  by  the  hand;  "you're  looking  fine 
and  we  have  been  missing  you  sorely." 

His  few  simple  words  caused  her  to  give  a 
little  shiver  of  pleasure,  and  as  she  muttered  a 
half-incoherent  reply  her  Aunt  Maggie,  who  kept 
house  for  Denis,  hobbled  past  him,  taking  her 
other  hand,  crying  out,  "  It's  Kate  —  as  sure  as 
God  is  in  His  Heaven  it's  Kate.  Oh,  it  takes 
the  tear  out  of  my  eye  to  be  seeing  you,  achree." 

"  It's  the  best  day  in  my  life,  Kate,"  he  said. 
"  Oh,  I  was  afeared  you'd  never  come  back  to  the 
old  place  again,  And  you're  not  a  bit  changed. 

7 


8  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

You're  yourself  and  no  one  else.  But  why  didn't 
you  tell  me  the  train  you  was  coming  by?  If  I'd 
put  the  day  to  it  I'd  have  been  there  in  Cork  to 
meet  you." 

"  I  guess  I  knew  that,  Denis,"  she  replied 
softly.  "  Oh,  I  wouldn't  have  you  waste  a  day 
on  me  and  the  harvest  not  saved." 

He  wrung  her  hand  again  and  drew  back,  gaz- 
ing at  her  admiringly,  exclaiming  at  her  smartness, 
marvelling  at  the  few  changes  in  her  appearance, 
telling  her  that  she  was  the  same  Kate  as  ever, 
and  that  every  day  since  she  had  left  five  years 
before  he  had  been  wanting  her,  looking  for  her 
and  missing  her  voice,  her  step,  her  laugh  through 
the  house.  Old  Maggie  kept  up  a  chorus  in  the 
background,  hobbling  round  her  with  exclamations 
of  admiration,  crowing  with  joy  and  clapping  her 
hands.  Suddenly,  they  seemed  to  realise  that  she 
must  be  tired,  in  need  of  a  rest  and  food.  So  they 
hurried  her  into  the  kitchen,  helped  her  off  with 
her  hat  and  coat,  both  of  them  talking  and  laugh- 
ing together;  and  she  turned  from  the  one  to  the 
other  in  happy  confusion.  Their  welcome  made 
her  feel  as  if  she  had  only  gone  away  yesterday, 
as  if  there  were  no  gap  in  the  years  at  all. 

*  You  must  be  starved  with  the  hunger,"  said 
Denis,  rushing  to  the  dresser  and  groping  about 
for  cups  and  saucers. 

"  I  could  eat  the  horns  off  a  cow,"  she  con- 
fessed. 

"  Would  you  like  a  feed  of  fish?  "  he  inquired, 
rummaging  about  for  knives  and  forks.  "  There 
was  a  fresh  catch  in  to-day." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  9 

"  I  could  drink  a  bowl  of  tea,"  she  admitted. 
"  I'm  dying  for  tea." 

"  Ah,  Denis,  let  them  knives  and  forks  be," 
protested  the  aunt,  who  was  at  the  fire  busy  with 
the  kettle;  "it's  two  fresh  eggs  she  will  have 
and  a  nice  cream  cake  I'm  after  baking  for  her. 
Look  now,  did  you  ever  see  better  in  all  them 
grand  places  in  America?  " 

A  round  crusty  loaf  was  produced  in  triumph 
from  the  cupboard,  and  in  a  couple  of  minutes 
Kate  was  drinking  hot  sweet  tea  and  chipping  the 
shell  off  a  brown  egg. 

They  watched  her  with  delighted  interest,  old 
Maggie  heaping  up  her  plate  and  exclaiming, 
"  Have  another  bitteen  of  the  cream  cake  now, 
Kate.  You  haven't  a  pick  on  you.  Let  you  not 
be  stinting  yourself.  Sure  I'd  a  good  tooth  and 
a  relish  for  food  and  I  your  age." 

Denis  had  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  answer 
his  sister's  questions  about  himself  and  his  farm- 
ing operations. 

"  Times  have  greatly  changed,"  he  was  saying; 
"  you  wouldn't  know  the  farm  and  the  good  land 
that's  in  it  now.  Maybe  you'll  remember  I  was 
ever  and  always  in  debt  no  matter  what  way  I'd 
be  saving  and  scraping  and  working.  For  twenty 
years  I  was  a  borrower,  and  now  in  the  end  of 
all  I'm  saving.  I  have  a  hundred  pounds  in  the 
Munster  Bank,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
twenty  years  my  mind  is  at  ease.  Oh,  the  prices 
for  cattle  and  crops  would  surprise  you.  There 
are  springers  going  for  forty-five  pounds  and  fifty 
pounds,  and  young  calves  three  weeks  old  for  two 


10  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

pounds  ten.  A  bull  calf  you'd  be  thankful  to  get 
five  shillings  for  on  the  day  of  its  birth  you  d  get 
two  pounds  for  now  without  the  least  bit  of 
trouble  in  the  world." 

Denis  continued  to  roll  out  farming  statistics, 
describing  in  detail  the  gradual  rise  in  prices  dur- 
ing the  two  years  of  war  and  his  own  gradual 
release  from  a  load  of  money  cares.  With  each 
fresh  figure  Kate  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Lord,  it's  dan- 
gerous!" And  when  she  learnt  how  the  last 
small  overdraft  at  the  bank  was  cleared  off  by  the 
sale  of  the  mangels  for  a  price  unequalled  in  the 
memory  of  man  she  drew  back  her  chair  from 
the  table  exclaiming,  "  I'm  thinking  the  end  of 
the  world  is  coming  with  Rathmore  Farm  freed 
from  debt." 

"  There's  more  than  the  end  of  the  world  com- 
ing," chuckled  old  Maggie;  "wait  till  you  hear 
what  Denis  is  after  doing." 

"  Ah,  can't  you  whist,  Maggie?  "  Denis  grinned 
fatuously,  and  then  turned  away  to  the  window,  a 
dark  flush  spreading  across  his  face. 

"  What  is  it  at  all?  "  Kate  eyed  the  two  won- 
deringly. 

"  I  couldn't  tell  you,"  he  choked;  "  you'd  be  in 
roars  laughing  at  me." 

She  rose  and  went  over  to  him,  and  putting  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder  compelled  him  to  face  her, 
saying  peremptorily,  "  Own  up  now,  Denis  —  own 

UP.; 

"  I'm  going  to  be  married,"  he  confessed  with 
a  cough  and  another  blush;  "it's  to  Minnie 
Foley." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  11 

"  Minnie  Foley!  "  Kate  exclaimed,  and  took  his 
two  hands  in  hers,  wringing  them  hard.  "  Well, 
Denis,  I'm  glad  in  my  heart  to  hear  it.  But  what 
a  pity  you  wouldn't  do  it  fifteen  years  back. 
Didn't  I  make  the  match  then  and  didn't  you  turn 
from  it,  kicking  up  your  hoofs  at  it  like  a  young 
colt?" 

"  I  wouldn't  bring  any  woman  into  a  house  with 
a  heavy  debt  hanging  over  it,"  he  replied.  "  She 
hadn't  a  bit  in  the  world  herself.  Now  her  father 
is  after  dying  she  has  a  nice  streak  of  land  beyond 
Gurtnagappal." 

At  this  point  he  made  a  hasty  excuse  about 
odds  and  ends  of  work  and  retired  precipitously 
from  the  kitchen. 

Kate  went  out  a  few  minutes  later.  She 
thought  she  would  like  a  stroll  by  herself,  she 
wanted  to  get  accustomed  to  her  home  again; 
and  she  experienced  a  curious  confusion  of  pain 
and  pleasure  as  she  wandered  from  field  to  field, 
noting  old  landmarks,  marking  where  trees  had 
fallen,  where  land  had  been  drained,  and  calling 
to  mind  old  games,  old  faces  and  old  follies.  It 
was  very  pleasant  to  her  to  perceive  how  much 
the  farm  had  improved  and  to  know  that  Denis 
was  at  last  free  to  marry.  Gradually,  the  peace, 
prosperity  and  content  of  everything  soothed  her 
spirit,  and  a  deep  sure  happiness  was  hers  as  she 
mounted  the  hill  and  stood  again  in  front  of  the 
farmhouse.  She  faced  round  to  the  south,  look- 
ing across  the  valley  over  the  woods  of  Kilcool  to 
the  hills  beyond.  It  was  one  of  those  long  sum- 
mer evenings  in  Ireland  when  it  seems  as  if  the 


12  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

light  can  never  die.  The  world  had  toned  down 
to  a  soft  silvery  shade,  though  there  was  still  a 
faint  flush  in  the  sky,  and  every  object  stood  out  as 
clearly  as  if  it  was  day.  There  were  fat  cattle  to 
the  left  browsing  in  a  field  where  the  grass  had 
lost  its  spring  sweetness,  a  sweetness  sucked  by 
summer  sun:  in  front  of  the  house  stretched  a 
field  of  oats,  the  long  stems  waving  and  bending 
in  the  evening  breeze;  beyond  it  was  another  field 
dotted  here  and  there  with  haycocks,  and  beyond 
it  again  a  dark  fringe  of  trees  and  a  gleam  of 
water.  Kate  knelt  down  and  took  up  a  little 
earth,  cradling  it  for  a  moment  in  the  palms  of 
her  hands  and  then  letting  it  slip  slowly  through 
her  fingers.  Ah!  how  she  loved  the  land;  how 
she  could  work  and  be  its  slave ;  how  she  longed 
to  live  and  die  near  it,  away  from  hot  streets, 
away  from  the  hard  pavements,  away  from  the 
interminable  miles  of  houses.  This  was  what  she 
had  come  back  for,  this  was  all  she  desired. 

As  the  knowledge  sank  into  her  mind  she  rose 
from  the  ground,  throwing  away  the  last  few 
grains  of  earth.  What  way  could  she  live  in 
Droumavalla?  She  had  sold  her  share  of  land 
when  she  went  to  America,  cast  away  her  claim  to 
the  earth.  What  matter?  She  could  not  work 
it  alone;  and  with  this  thought  there  came  a  mem- 
ory of  Steve  and  Michael  and  of  Coomacarn 
Farm,  their  home.  She  wondered  had  they 
changed.  It  was  unlikely;  Denis  was  in  no  way 
changed.  It  was  only  a  short  time  since  she  had 
seen  them;  five  years  counted  for  little,  they  would 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  13 

surely  be  the  same  as  when  she  had  given  them 
the  slip  and  made  off  to  America. 

"  Kate  —  Kate  —  where  are  you  at  all,  at  all?  " 
Denis  was  calling  her  from  the  yard. 

She  turned  towards  it,  her  mind  full  of  Steve 
and  Michael,  and  the  thought  of  those  two  strong 
men  now  brought  a  colour  to  her  cheeks  and  a 
queer  throbbing  to  her  heart.  Maybe  the  time 
had  come  for  her  to  make  her  choke  at  last. 

Denis,  old  Maggie  and  Kate  sat  up  till  late  that 
night  though  a  rick  of  hay  had  to  be  built  on 
the  morrow.  The  hours  stole  by  without  their 
heeding  them,  there  was  so  much  to  tell,  so  many 
miles  they  had  not  footed  together  and  over  which 
they  must  travel  now  in  intimate  talk.  Kate  de- 
scribed her  life  in  America  in  minute  detail,  and 
Denis  in  his  turn,  backed  by  reminders  from  Mag- 
gie, gave  an  account  of  his  life  which  was  largely 
the  history  of  the  farm.  He  made  the  round  of 
all  the  seasons,  relating  the  various  vicissitudes 
through  which  it  had  passed,  and  ending  up  with 
a  short  description  of  his  courting. 

"  Isn't  it  a  wonder  she'd  take  an  old  fellow  near 
fifty  the  likes  of  me?  "  he  said. 

"  No  wonder  at  all,"  protested  Kate.  "  In- 
deed Minnie  Foley  is  the  lucky  girl.  You're  not 
a  rollicking  fellow  and  you'll  give  her  fine  graceful 
living.  But  I  never  had  a  thought  you  was 
sparky.  That's  what  kills  me." 

'  There's  an  old  saying  you  mustn't  take  the 
book  by  the  cover,"  put  in  Maggie. 

"Sparky,    is   it?"    laughed    Denis.     "Indeed 


14,  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

then,  you're  mistaken,  Kate.  I'm  not  in  love  — 
not  a  bit  in  the  world.  I  am  marrying  Minnie 
because  she  matches  me  fine.  She  has  good 
knowledge  of  milk  and  butter  and  she's  a  grand 
woman  for  hens.  Up  there  at  Gurtnagappal,  the 
time  her  old  father  was  living,  the  eggs  were 
spread  out  like  gravel  before  her  in  the  hen-house 
and  the  boxes!  Oh,  Lord,  save  my  soul,  the 
boxes  she'd  send  away  full  of  them !  " 

"  Ah,  hal  I  can  tell  what  way  it  is  from  your 
speech.  I'll  engage  you  have  a  great  care  for 
her." 

"  Oh,  not  so  great  at  all,  but  she  matches  my 
tackle.  I'm  not  like  them  young  lads  that  are 
growing  up  with  their  fancy  talk  about  breaking 
hearts  and  love  and  all  that  raumeish.  Sure,  love 
is  nothing  but  insanity." 

Kate  lifted  her  head  and  looked  across  at  her 
brother  reflectively.  "  Love  is  no  insanity,"  she 
replied  after  a  pause. 

"  And  where  did  you  learn  that?  "  he  inquired 
in  a  half-joking  manner. 

"  I  — "  she  hesitated  — "  I  learned  it  in  the 
States." 

"  Was  there  one  out  there,  Kate?  "  His  voice 
was  serious  now. 

"  Not  a  one,  but  I  learned  it  all  the  same." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  minutes  while 
Denis  gazed  across  at  his  sister,  a  little  puzzled 
frown  gathering  on  his  open  forehead.  Kate 
became  conscious  of  his  look  and  of  the  sudden 
quiet,  the  first  that  had  fallen  on  the  party,  and 
she  turned  nervously  to  Maggie,  saying : 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  15 

"  Tell  me  about  the  Cantys  now.  Did  John 
emigrate,  I  wonder?  I  mind  he  was  a  wild  lad 
and  a  great  spree  boy  for  all  he  had  a  good  heart." 

"  He  is  dead,"  replied  Maggie.  "  God  rest 
his  soul." 

"  Dead !     Sure,  he'»s  younger  than  myself." 

"  He  was  in  the  Naval  Reserve  and  was  called 
up  and  drowned  in  the  N-orth  Sea,"  said  Denis 
hastily.  "  But  did  you  hear  about  the  creamery, 
Kate?  They're  talking  of  building  one  over  at 
Droumavalla." 

She  wondered  a  little  at  his  sudden  change  of 
subject,  but  before  she  could  answer  his  question 
Maggie  began  eagerly: 

"  There  was  a  strange  thing  happened  the  night 
he  was  drowned.  Old  Canty,  the  father,  was 
coming  home  from  Middleton  Fair  and  a  great 
squad  of  heifers  went  by  him.  And  says  he,  '  I 
took  great  notice  of  them  for  they  chewed  no  cud 
by  the  roadside  — '  " 

"  Ah,  don't  be  bothering  Kate  with  that,"  broke 
in  Denis  irritably. 

"  She's  not  bothering  me,  and  I'd  like  well  to 
hear  what  occurred.  Go  on,  Maggie." 

"  The  moon  was  rising  over  the  sea,"  continued 
the  old  woman,  "  and  Canty  saw  men  down  on 
Incadonney  strand.  They  were  putting  out  the 
falling  nets  that  do  take  in  the  fish.  Canty  walked 
on  a  spelleen  and  the  time  he  looked  again  the 
nets  were  full  of  fish  and  shining  like  silver.  The 
men  were  throwing  the  catch  out  on  the  sands  and 
he  seed  John  among  them.  And  says  he  to  him- 
self, forgetting  his  son  was  away,  '  I  will  have  fish 


16  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

for  dinner.  John  will  bring  some  home.'  Then 
all  of  a  sudden  it  came  over  him  that  his  son  was 
in  the  big  ship  fighting  the  Germans.  And  a  great 
fear  fell  on  him  and  he  ran  and  he  ran  till  he 
came  to  the  sands.  But  no  one  was  there.  .  .  . 
Oh,  no  luck  nor  grace  will  follow  them  that  see 
the  Little  People  and  they  drawing  in  the  falling 
nets." 

"  Tcah,  what  talk  you  have !  "  said  Denis  curtly. 
"  Canty's  an  old  fool.  He  seen  nothing." 

"  Oh,  he  can  see,"  Maggie  shook  her  head. 
"  One  time  he  was  up  at  the  cross  and  he  saw  the 
Little  People  fiddling  and  piping  and  dancing  and 
laughing,  and  there  was  a  boy  that  was  dead  and 
a  girl  that  was  dead  dancing  with  them  quicker 
than  any." 

"  And  John  was  drowned  the  night  the  nets 
were  out?"  queried  Kate. 

"  He  was  so,  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 
him,"  the  old  woman  sighed.  "  Ah,  we  will  soon 
be  in  the  grave,  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor,  and 
what  matter  if  it  be  earth  or  water." 

"  A  young  fellow  like  that !  "  murmured  Kate  to 
herself.  It  seemed  so  strange  and  terrible  that 
a  young  man  of  her  own  age,  in  the  flower  of  his 
years,  one  that  she  had  known,  should  be  whipped 
out  of  life  with  such  -suddenness,  not  even  the 
pnayers  of  the  church  said  over  him. 

"  You  haven't  given  me  any  news  of  the  people 
about."  She  eyed  Denis  questioningly.  "  What's 
become  of  the  Roches,  -the  Walshes,  the  O'Briens 
and  all  that  crowd?  They  were  nice  boys.  I 
suppose  they're  still  in  Droumavalla?  " 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  17 

Denis  did  not  answer  at  once,  rising  from  his 
chair,  taking  the  alarum  clock  from  the  dresser, 
and  busying  himself  with  it.  Just  as  she  was 
about  to  repeat  her  question  he  turned  round, 
yawning  and  stretching  himself.  "  I'm  tired, 
Kate,"  said  he;  "  I'll  have  to  be  up  at  the  blue  of 
dawn  if  the  hay  is  to  be  saved  to-morrow.  What 
news  there  is  can.  wait  till  the  evening." 

"  To  be  sure,  Den-is.  I  want  to  give  a  hand 
with  the  hay  too." 

He  looked  significantly  at  his  aunt.  "  Maggie, 
you'd  best  be  going  to  bed.  Don't  be  keeping 
Kate  up  now.  She's  worn  out  with  the  tire  of 
the  journey." 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  this  very  minute,"  the  old 
woman  replied,  an  apologetic  note  in  her  voice. 

"  I'll  be  real  glad  of  an  extra  hand  with  the 
hay.  There's  no  getting  labourers  at  all  these 
times,"  he  went  on,  handing  his  sister  a  candle- 
stick and  turning  down  the  lamp. 

She  had  no  choice  but  to  go  upstairs  to  bed; 
he  waited  for  her  going  and  bade  her  good-night 
just  outside  the  door  of  her  little  room.  The  ring 
of  warm  affection  in  his  voice  at  that  moment 
delighted  her;  it  made  her  feel  she  counted  for 
something  with  some  one  in  the  world  still  — 
counted  more  perhaps  even  than  Minnie  Foley. 
She  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  bed,  too  excited  yet  to 
sleep,  reflecting  on  the  wonderful  evening  that  was 
passed,  and  picturing  to  herself  the  good  days  that 
stretched  before  her.  She  regretted  that  her 
courage  had  failed  her,  and  she  had  not  inquired 
about  Steve  and  Michael.  A  curious  feeling  of 


18  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

shyness,  quite  unusual  with  her,  had  kept  the  words 
back  from  her  lips.  Denis,  knowing  how  they 
had  cared  for  her,  would  probably  have  teased 
her,  given  her  a  life  of  it.  In  any  case  she  was 
a  little  afraid  of  the  substance  of  his  answer. 
Both  Steve  and  Michael  might  have  married  dur- 
ing those  five  years  of  absence.  She  could  not 
bear  to  think  of  them  as  the  property  of  another 
woman ;  and  she  drove  the  ugly  thought  from  her. 
Old  Maggie  and  Denis  were  poor  correspondents, 
but  they  would  certainly  have  written  i-t  out  to  her 
if  it  had  been  the  case. 

It  was  a  little  strange  that  he  had  not  mentioned 
any  of  the  boys  in  the  village  in  his  account  of 
Droumavalla  and  of  his  life.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  they  had  both  been  too  intent  on  what 
had  happened  to  them  personally,  there  had  been 
no  room  for  anything  else  in  their  conversation. 
But  she  must  hear  all  about  the  lads  she  knew 
to-morrow,  and  perhaps  in  the  evening  some  of 
them  would  be  at  the  cross,  and  she  would  be 
meeting  them. 

Kate  undressed  quickly  and  was  soon  asleep, 
dreaming  of  that  even  more  wonderful  to-morrow. 

It  dawned  fresh  and  cool,  with  a  menace  of  rain 
in  the  wind,  and  Maggie,  as  she  made  a  cup  of 
tea  for  Denis,  remarked  pessimistically,  "  There'll 
be  heavy  showers,  I'm  thinking,  and  the  hay  will 
be  spoiled.  Ah  the  weather!  when  it's  breaking 
it's  breaking,  and  God  knows  when  'twill  cure  it." 

"  Not  at  all  —  not  at  all.  It  will  be  a  grand 
day  in  the  heel;  the  clouds  will  blow  over,"  he 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  19 

replied.  "  I  want  it  to  be  a  grand  day  for  Kate 
too.  D'ye  mind  that,  Maggie.  Send  her  over  to 
me  to  the  hayfield  as  soon  as  she  has  her  breakfast 
ate." 

His  prophecy  was  a  true  one.  After  a  heavy 
shower  a  breeze  from  the  west  sprang  up  and  had 
its  way  driving  the  clouds  before  it  like  a  flock  of 
frightened  sheep.  All  day  they  hurried  across  the 
sky  to  the  east,  now  and  again  their  ranks  breaking 
and  the  sun's  rays  darting  through  them.  Then, 
a  soft  radiance  hung  about  the  hayfield,  scents 
from  the  grasses  floated  softly  upwards  and  the 
faces  of  the  sweating  labourers  glistened  in  the 
light.  Kate  was  keenly  sensible  of  that  warm 
glow  and  of  the  harvest  scents  which  she  had  not 
savoured  for  five  long  years.  She  breathed 
deeply  as  she  strolled  towards  the  field  by  the 
little  stream,  walking  between  thick  blackberry 
hedges,  enjoying  the  drowsy  airs,  that  in  that 
southern  country  lap  its  people  round,  airs  un- 
equalled for  their  clinging  softness  in  any  other 
land. 

"Ah,  Kate,  is  that  yourself?"  Denis  called 
from  the  top  of  the  growing  rick.  "  Are  you 
come  to  give  us  a  helping  hand?  " 

"  Indeed  and  I  am,"  she  replied;  "  but  I'll  just 
step  down  to  the  village  first.  I  want  to  see  Mrs. 
Corrigan.  I'll  be  back  in  half  an  hour  for  sure." 

Denis,  his  hair  and  clothes  all  covered  with 
hayseed,  leaped  down  from  the  rick  and  was  beside 
her  in  a  moment. 

"  Ah,  don't  go  off  now  to  Biddy  Corrigan,"  he 


20  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

begged.     "  She'll  keep  you  till  the  middle  of  the 
noon  day.     Stay  with  us  and  give  us  a  helping 

hand." 

"  I'll  engage  she  won't  keep  me  a  minute.  I'll 
be  hopping  up  here  before  you've  three  more  loads 
landed,"  said  Kate  lightly.  Maggie  had  been  un- 
responsive that  morning,  and  she  wanted  very 
badly  to  obtain  news  of  Steve  and  Michael  from 
this  cousin  of  the  Turpins.  She  couldn't  bring 
herself  to  question  Denis  about  them,  only  a  word 
with  Biddy  could  satisfy  her. 

Denis,  however,  persisted.  "Listen,  Kate; 
there's  no  way  of  getting  labourers  at  all  these 
times.  I've  only  them  two  lads  and  a  woman. 
Look  up  now  at  the  sky,  it'll  rain  before  the  day's 
end.  Wouldn't  it  be  a  sin  and  a  shame  not  to 
save  it?" 

"  Ah,  it's  not  going  to  rain,  and  I'll  only  be  a 
minute." 

"  Didn't  you  tell  me  last  night  you  were  aching 
to  have  a  hay-fork  in  your  hand  again?  Was 
that  all  talk?" 

He  pressed  one  into  her  hand  as  he  spoke  and 
continued  with  a  light  laugh,  "  Come  now  and 
show  me  is  there  any  strength  left  in  your  arm  at 
all?  Is  it  afraid  of  a  hay-fork  you  are,  or  is  it 
that  you're  bone  idle,  Kate  Carmody  ?  " 

She  echoed  his  laugh  with  another  one  and  made 
a  dig  at  him  with  the  fork,  then  turned  to  the 
hay  and  began  to  work  with  a  will. 

It  had  been  put  into  big  cocks  some  weeks 
before  when  it  was  cut.  The  wet  weather  that 
had  intervened  had  removed  any  possibility  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  SI 

their  building  a  rick.  The  day  before  had  been 
without  a  shower,  and  Denis  was  now  making  the 
most  of  his  opportunity.  Some  of  the  cocks  were 
dry  enough  to  be  drawn  up  as  they  were  by  means 
of  an  encircling  rope;  the  rain  had  penetrated 
others  and  they  had  to  be  tossed  out  for  the  sun 
and  wind  to  dry  them.  Kate  felt  a  keen  pleasure 
in  the  steady  rhythmic  motion  of  the  fork,  in  the 
free  swing  of  her  muscles,  and  in  the  tingle  of  her 
skin  under  the  moist  sunshine.  If  there  had  been 
any  capacity  for  musical  expression  in  her  she 
would  have  sung  to  herself  as  Delia  Conway,  who 
forked  beside  her,  was  singing.  The  music  was 
not  there,  but  now  and  then  she  laughed  aloud 
from  joy  of  mere  existence.  Occasionally,  in  a 
short  moment  of  respite,  when  a  fresh  load  had 
not  yet  arrived,  her  brother  would  beam  down  at 
her  from  the  rick  calling  out: 

"Are  you  glad  to  be  home,  Kate?" 

"  Troth  I  am,  Dinny,"  she  would  reply;  using 
her  pet  name  for  him.  Once  she  added,  "  'Deed 
and  my  heart  is  singing  for  gladness." 

It  was  all  so  much  better  even  than  she  expected, 
and  she  wondered  how  she  had  ever  brought  her- 
self to  emigrate  to  America.  Not  even  the  worst 
poverty  would  persuade  her  to  go  back  now. 
Whatever  came  she  could  not  tear  herself  away 
from  Droumavalla  again.  She  loved  the  land  too 
dearly.  It  was  bone  of  her  bone,  heart  of  her 
heart. 

She  worked  away  till  her  shoulders  ached,  till 
her  hands  seemed  red  hot,  till  there  was  a  crick  in 
her  neck  from  the  sideways  motion  of  the  fork. 


22  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Then,  when  the  ache  became  persistent  she  took  a 
long  pull  at  the  can  of  tea  and  lay  down  in  the 
stubble  to  rest. 

Which  would  it  be,  Steve  or  Michael?  She 
had  quite  decided  it  was  to  be  one  of  them  now. 
Both  were  manly  gamey  fellows,  with  an  open 
hand  and  with  the  same  kindliness  of  nature  as 
Denis.  They  were  "  whole  men,"  as  she  called 
them,  with  no  trace  of  meanness  or  weakness  in 
their  nature.  They  might  be  taken  for  twins, 
they  were  so  alike.  At  hurling  no  one  could  equal 
Michael,  and  not  one  in  the  countryside  had  a 
lighter  foot  at  a  jig  or  reel  than  Stephen.  Better 
still,  they  were  fine  farmers,  with  a  great  store  of 
knowledge  of  crops  and  animals.  It  would  be 
hard  to  choose  between  them;  and  Kate  wondered 
if  their  father  was  still  living,  and  which  of  them 
would  be  the  owner  of  Coomacarn. 

It  was  a  square  house,  turned  towards  the  sea, 
nestling  in  the  southern  fold  of  a  hill,  a  piece  of 
"  warm  land "  stretching  down  from  it.  The 
soil  of  Rathmore  Farm  was  poor  indeed  compared 
to  that  fertile  streak.  True,  three  or  four  acres 
of  bog  took  away  from  its  value,  but  these  could 
be  drained.  Oh,  she  would  get  Michael  —  or 
would  it  be  Steve  —  to  improve  the  farm  greatly; 
and  she  began  to  plan  and  scheme  in  her  mind  as 
to  how  it  might  be  stocked  and  as  to  what  crops 
would  be  sown.  With  regard  to  the  buildings  a 

hen-house  must  be  built  and  the  dairy  improved 

that  was,  of  course,  if  conditions  had  not  changed 
there.  It  was  not  probable,  for  old  Turpin  was 
very  conservative  and  extremely  niggardly  in  his 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  23 

ways.  She  would  make  the  alterations  with  her 
own  money.  The  brother  who  did  not  get  the 
farm  would  probably  in  company  with  Eugene 
inherit  what  cash  was  going.  So  her  own  small 
fortune  would  be  very  useful.  Possibly  it  was 
just  what  was  needed  to  make  Coomacarn  the 
finest  farm  of  land  in  the  district. 

Kate  rose  from  the  ground  smiling  to  herself 
at  these  happy  foolish  dreams,  her  reason  mocking 
at  them,  and  yet  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  was 
confident  that  Coomacarn  Farm  was  to  be  her 
destiny;  she  could  not  avoid  it,  and  in  her  eyes 
the  destiny  seemed  passing  fair. 

The  two  ricks  of  hay  were  completed  by  the 
time  the  stars  were  out  and  the  wind  dropping 
with  the  sunset  had  become  a  mere  whisper  in  the 
trees.  Denis  and  his  sister  strolled  back  towards 
the  farm  through  the  twilight.  She  was  very 
tired  and  happy  —  looking  forward  to  a  rest  and 
another  talk  that  evening.  Maggie  would  be 
there  of  course;  and  she  was  more  anxious  than 
ever  to  obtain  news  of  Steve  and  Michael,  but  she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  mention  their  names 
when  both  her  brother  and  aunt  were  present; 
they  would  begin  to  joke  and  tease  at  once,  and 
there  would  be  no  getting  a  satisfying  answer  out 
of  them.  She  was  too  weary  to  slip  out  after 
supper  and  go  down  to  Mrs.  Corrigan.  It  would 
be  far  easier  to  put  the  question  to  Denis  while 
she  had  him  all  to  herself  in  the  open  air.  The 
land  had  worked  its  powerful  spell  upon  her,  and 
she  must  find  out  now  if  her  life  was  to  be  bound 
up  with  it, 


24  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  I  have  a  great  wish  to  know,"  she  began  — 
"I  —  tell  me  what's  become  of  Steve  and  Michael 
Turpin?" 

Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  ground,  and  she 
did  not  see  the  troubled  look  that  crept  across  her 
brother's  face. 

"  They're  all  right,"  he  replied;  and  went  on  in 
the  same  breath,  "  Did  I  bother  you  keeping  you 
from  going  to  the  village  to-day?  I  imagine  it 
was  a  bit  dull  for  you  piking  the  hay." 

"  Indeed  then,  it  was  not.  Ah,  Dinny,  it  was  a 
grand  day.  I  felt  like  as  if  I  was  queen  of  the 
world.  Sure  I  am  that  every  one  should  go  to  the 
States  just  to  get  the  glad  feeling  when  they  come 
home  again." 

"  And  I  thinking  you'd  have  high-up  notions." 

"  Tell  me,  have  you  any  news  of  Steve  and 
Michael?  "  she  persisted,  her  attention  arrested  by 
the  expression  of  his  face.  "  What  do  you  mean 
by  all  right?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  —  nothing.  I'd  know  how  many 
tons  of  hay  are  in  them  two  ricks." 

She  was  looking  at  him  now  and  his  eyes  were 
lowered  in  their  turn.  She  caught  his  arm,  ap- 
prehension in  her  voice. 

"  Denis  —  Denis  —  you're  keeping  something 
back.  What  is  it  at  all?  Tell  me  quick?  " 

"I  —  I  can't  tell  you,"  he  muttered  thickly. 

Her  clutch  tightened;  she  pulled  at  his  arm. 
"  Denis  —  what  d'you  mean?  I  can  see  by  your 
face  it's  a  bad  story.  Oh,  it's  cruel  to  be  keeping 
it  from  me." 

"  Cruel !  and  I  wanting  to  spare  you.     Why, 


25 

Kate,  I  wouldn't  hurt  you  for  anything  in  the 
world.  I  can't  bear  to  tell  it.  For  I  know  well 
you'd  a  warm  spot  in  your  heart  for  them  in  the 
times  that  are  gone,  though  maybe  you  didn't 
know  it  yourself." 

"  Tell  me  —  tell  me,"  she  prayed. 

He  looked  down  at  her  sadly,  speaking  very 
gently. 

"  D'you  mind  how  friendly  Steve  and  Michael 
were  to  one  another?  There  was  never  a  hard 
word  between  them.  And  ever  and  always  they 
were  eager  for  the  other  to  be  first  at  the  match 
or  in  the  dancing.  They  were  at  one  in  every- 
thing. It  made  no  differ  when  they  were  after 
you,  the  one  was  ready  to  fall  out  if  the  other 
was  chosen.  At  the  start  of  the  War  the  two  of 
them  were  in  the  Irish  Volunteers,  and  Michael, 
after  reading  John  Redmond's  speech,  enlisted, 
and  he  and  Steve  had  a  bitter  quarrel  on  the 
head  of  it." 

"  And  —  and  — "  broke  in  Kate. 

"  Steve  went  with  the  Sinn  Feiners  and  was 
killed  in  the  rising  in  Dublin.  Michael  was  killed 
in  France  fighting  for  the  British.  God  rest  their 
souls." 

"  Dead!  the  two  of  them  I  " 

"  Ay  so.  It's  a  pitiful  story  surely  .  .  .  the 
one  opposed  to  the  other  at  the  last." 

"Holy  Mother  in  Heaven!"  With  this  ex- 
clamation Kate,  who  had  been  very  still,  sank 
on  to  the  ground,  pressing  her  two  hands  against 
her  face.  She  did  not  sob  or  cry  out  again,  there 
was  not  even  a  quick  drawing  in  of  breath  to 


26  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

indicate  how  she  suffered,  and  the  sounds  of  life 
in  the  fields  came  to  Denis  with  curious  distinct- 
ness, as  she  wrestled  with  her  grief  in  a  tearless 

silence. 

A  calf  lowed  in  the  distance,  gulls  were  calling 
to  each  other  on  the  river,  and  now  and  then 
there  came  a  "  clack,  clack,"  from  belated  ducks 
on  their  way  to  the  yard,  old  Maggie  shooing 
them  before  her.  Nearly  half  an  hour  went  by; 
still  there  was  no  movement,  no  change  in  the 
kneeling  figure.  The  moon  was  rising  and  the 
robe  of  dusk  was  slowly  drawn  away,  the  silvery 
light  spreading  over  the  field  blanching  her  cheek 
and  lip  with  a  soft  pallor. 

Denis  stood  by  her,  watching  her  during  these 
slow  minutes  like  some  faithful  dog,  not  stirring 
nor  making  a  sound.  Instinct  told  him  that  words 
of  his  were  of  no  use,  that  she  would  pay  no 
more  heed  to  them  than  to  the  grass  in  the  field. 
She  was  very  proud;  she  must  bear  her  trouble 
alone. 

The  clock  of  the  chapel  broke  across  the  quiet, 
chiming  out  the  half-hour.  It  seemed  to  rouse 
her;  she  rose  to  her  feet,  and  together  they 
walked  up  the  field  in  silence.  At  the  stile  she 
turned  to  him  with  sudden  passion: 

"  Why  did  you  keep  it  from  me?  Oh,  Denis, 
you'd  a  right  to  tell  me.  I  can't  forgive  you  for 
holding  it  back." 

"  I  wanted  you  to  have  two  happy  days. 
Maybe  I  was  wrong,  but  I'd  a  great  wish  to 
see  the  smile  in  your  eye  and  no  tears  on  your 
cheeks." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  27 

She  did  not  answer  him,  and  they  went  on  in 
the  same  silence.  Just  outside  the  house  door 
she  faced  him  again,  speaking  in  a  small  still  voice. 

"  I  am  very  thankful  to  you,  Dinny,  for  those 
two  good  days." 

Before  he  could  reply  she  had  disappeared  into 
the  house;  he  saw  the  edge  of  her  skirt  vanishing 
up  the  stairs,  and  a  moment  later  heard  the  bed- 
room door  close  behind  her. 


CHAPTER  III 

KATE  could  not  sleep.  She  did  not  even  go  to 
bed;  she  felt  as  if  she  would  suffocate  in  it,  and 
drawing  a  chair  to  the  window  sat  down  beside 
it  gazing  out  into  the  night.  She  tried  to  picture 
Michael  and  Steve  to  herself  in  turn,  and  the 
clearer  they  became  to  her  mind's  eye  the  more 
difficult  it  was  for  her  to  believe  that  they  were 
gone.  Tall  men,  with  blue  eyes  and  brown  curling 
hair,  she  saw  them  swinging  their  hurley-sticks, 
saw  them  leaping  hedges  and  ditches  following 
the  harriers  on  Sunday,  saw  them  twisting  and 
turning,  beating  out  the  pattern  with  their  feet 
in  the  dance.  It  was  impossible  that  the  end 
should  have  come  already,  that  the  hurley-sticks 
should  be  lying  idle,  that  their  swift  feet  should 
be  at  rest  for  ever.  It  was  a  terrible  mistake. 
No  God  in  Heaven  could  be  so  cruel  as  to  put 
an  end  to  so  much  life  and  gladness.  Kate 
recognised  as  fitting  that  old  people  when  they 
got  tired  should  slip  away  easily  and  quietly: 
that  was  like  sleep;  but  this  was  an  agony, 
monstrous  —  incredible.  She  could  not  face  the 
thought  of  this  free,  frank  manhood  brutally  torn 
from  the  world  and  destroyed. 

Sometimes  she  dozed,  and  twice  she  awoke  with 
a  start,  thinking  she  heard  their  voices,  believing 
that  Steve  was  standing  by  her  whispering  in  her 
ear.  The  disillusionment  was  so  bitter  when 

28 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  29 

complete  wakefulness  proved  that  they  were  not 
there  —  that  they  could  never  be  there  again,  she 
determined  she  would  not  allow  herself  to  fall 
asleep  and  began  walking  up  and  down,  now  and 
then  pausing  by  the  window  to  watch  for  the 
dawning  of  the  day.  It  came  at  last  in  a  soft 
blue  mistiness,  beautiful  and  fair  to  look  upon. 
A  few  little  clouds,  touched  with  pink,  lay  curled 
up  just  above  the  hills  like  the  crumpled  petals 
of  a  flower;  the  lurking  shadows  marched  away. 
Soon  there  was  a  stir,  both  in  the  house  and  out- 
side it  —  a  twitter  of  birds,  the  rustle  of  cattle 
browsing  in  the  grass,  the  sound  of  people  moving 
below,  cocks  crowing,  the  clatter  of  a  milk-pail, 
all  the  usual  animation  that  at  another  time  would 
have  been  pleasant  music  in  Kate's  ears.  She 
hated  this  first  freshness  of  life  now;  she  wanted 
to  be  alone  in  the  dark  with  her  trouble.  For 
it  only  seemed  half  real  in  the  night.  This  bright 
day  brought  with  it  an  inevitable  recognition  of 
the  truth. 

She  did  not  grieve  as  others  might  have  done 
over  the  fact  that  these  two  brothers  were  opposed 
to  each  other  at  the  last,  that  Steve  had  died 
fighting  for  Sinn  Fein  and  that  Michael  had  died 
fighting  in  the  ranks  of  the  British.  For  her 
there  was  only  the  personal  feeling,  the  hard 
ache  for  those  dear  to  her,  the  regret  at  the  waste 
of  two  good  men,  the  sacrifice  of  young  life  to 
satisfy  strange  inscrutable  powers  for  ideals  she 
could  not  understand. 

Time  had  seemed  of  no  consequence  when  she 
went  to  America.  Why  had  she  let  slip  those  five 


30  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

precious  years  that  could  never  now  be  recalled? 
How  was  it  she  had  not  recognised  happiness 
then?  What  a  fool  she  had  been  to  come  back, 
yet  she  admitted  to  herself  that  the  return  was 
inevitable.  The  land,  Michael  and  Steve  had 
drawn  her  back:  she  could  not  have  resisted  them. 
But  now  that  all  three  were  taken  from  her  what 
was  to  be  her  future?  Ah,  what  did  it  matter? 
What  did  anything  matter  since  these  two  were 
gone? 

Kate  did  not  leave  the  farm  that  day  nor  the 
next;  the  outside  world  was  of  no  interest  to  her. 
She  was  living  in  her  memories  and  suffering  for 
them.  On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  Denis 
brought  her  some  old  books  he  had  found  in  a 
cupboard  in  the  kitchen,  and  he  suggested  to  her 
that  they  might  distract  her  mind.  She  bright- 
ened up  at  the  sight  of  them;  she  was  fond  of 
books  though  she  had  had  no  time  to  read  in 
America.  The  first  she  took  up  was  an  Irish 
history  a  schoolmaster  of  the  National  School 
had  given  her  when  she  was  young.  Glancing 
through  the  pages  of  the  tattered  volume  she 
came  at  length  to  a  description  of  the  siege  of 
Limerick  and  an  account  of  Sarsfield's  men,  of 
their  being  driven  out  of  their  own  land  and  of 
their  gallantry  in  the  service  of  France.  "  The 
Wild  Geese,"  as  they  were  called,  had  left  Ire- 
land in  their  thousands.  An  Irish  brigade  was 
formed  and  fought  for  France  in  many  wars. 
The  battle  of  Fontenoy  had  been  won  by  them, 
though  at  a  bitter  cost.  Kate  read  how  on  that 
day  a  third  of  the  brigade  had  perished  —  exiles 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  31 

dying  in  a  foreign  land  in  foreign  service.  There 
followed  a  poem  which  described  how  the  dead 
rose  from  the  field  and  sailed  all  the  night  through, 
finding  the  land  they  loved  in  the  dawn.  She 
caught  her  breath  as  her  eyes  travelled  from  verse 
to  verse,  and  when  she  had  grasped  the  meaning 
a  little  of  the  weariness  lifted  from  her  soul. 

FONTENOY.     1745. 
II. —  After  the  Battle;  early  dawn,  Clare  coast. 

"  Mary  Mother,   shield   us !     Say,   what  men   are  ye, 
Sweeping  past  so  swiftly  on   this  morning  sea?" 

"Without  sails  or  rowlocks  merrily  we  glide 
Home  to  Corca  Bascinn  on  the  brimming  tide." 

"Jesus  save  you,  gentry!  why  are  ye  so  white, 
Sitting  all  so  straight  and  still  in  this  misty  light?" 

"Nothing  ails  us,  brother;  joyous  souls  are  we 
Sailing  home  together,  on  the  morning  sea. 

"  Cousins,  friends,   and  kinsfolk,  children  of  the  land, 
Here  we  come  together,  a  merry,  rousing  band ; 
Sailing  home  together  from  the  last  great  fight, 
Home  to  Clare  from  Fontenoy,  in  the  morning  light. 

"  Men  of  Corca  Bascinn,  men  of  Clare's  Brigade, 
Harken,  stony  hills  of  Clare,  hear  the  charge  we  made; 
See  us  come  together,  singing  from  the  fight, 
Home  to  Corca  Bascinn,   in  the  morning  light." 

There  was  an  extraordinary  exhilaration  in 
those  lines.  Kate  was  filled  with  it  for  the  mo- 
ment. She  thought  of  Steve  and  Michael,  of  their 
death,  and  the  sense  of  the  waste,  the  sense  of 
the  pitifulness  of  it  left  her.  They  were  both 
brave  men;  she  was  proud  of  them;  they  had  not 
been  afraid  to  face  the  battle  and  to  die.  She 


32  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

had  not  cried  at  all  during  those  two  days,  but 
now  something  hard  in  her  soul  seemed  to  loosen 
and  to  dissolve.  Tears  flowed  down  her  cheeks, 
and  she  bowed  her  head  over  the  book,  praying 
for  the  spirits  of  these  two  men. 

"  Kate Kate.  Eugene  is  below  and  is  want- 
ing to  see  you."  It  was  Denis  calling  from  out- 
side the  door. 

"  Eugene!  "  she  exclaimed  starting  up  from  her 

chair. 

"Eugene  Turpin.     Will  I  tell  him  you  cant 

see  him?  " 

She  hesitated  and  then  replied,  "  What  would 
prevent  me?  I'll  be  down  in  a  minute." 

She  had  forgotten  that  Eugene  was  left,  and 
for  the  sake  of  his  two  brothers  she  wanted  to  see 
him  now.  He  could  tell  her  more  about  them, 
give  an  account  of  their  lives  during  her  five  years 
of  absence,  and  describe  their  doings  in  detail  from 
day  to  day.  Perhaps  in  time  it  might  be  possible 
to  find  out  if  they  had  gone  to  the  Wars  still 
caring  for  her.  Bitterly  she  regretted  her  foolish 
flight  to  America.  Only  when  she  came  back  had 
she  discovered  how  deeply  she  cared.  That  was 
so  strange.  Oh,  why  had  she  not  snatched  at  the 
present?  Why  had  she  held  their  love  only  as  a 
trifle?  Why  had  she  thought  life  was  so  long? 
Why  had  she  believed  they  would  wait  for  the 
moment  when  it  would  please  her  to  choose  one 
of  them?  No  answer  was  forthcoming  to  these 
questions,  and  with  an  impatient  sigh  she  left  the 
room  and  descended  the  stairs. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  33 

dusk  had  already  invaded  the  kitchen,  which  at 
first  sight  seemed  empty.  Then,  as  Kate  ad- 
vanced along  the  passage  leading  to  it,  she  per- 
ceived the  tall  spare  figure  of  a  man  half-turned 
towards  the  fire.  Its  shape,  the  graceful  line  of 
the  head,  the  fine  shoulders,  the  long  slender  build 
like  a  greyhound's  caused  her  to  pause  in  the  door- 
way with  a  little  catch  in  her  breath.  For  an  in- 
stant she  believed  it  was  Steve,  then  the  head 
turned;  the  face  was  quite  different.  Eugene's 
hair  was  black,  and  in  this  respect,  and  in  his 
delicate  features,  in  the  gentle  expression  of  his 
rather  full  lips  he  was  unlike  his  two  brothers, 
but  his  eyes  resembled  theirs,  only  they  were 
brighter  —  like  stars  on  a  clear  night  they  seemed 
to  Kate.  There  was  an  appeal  in  them,  a  wistful 
searching  look  as  they  met  hers,  she  somehow  felt 
sorry  for  him  though  he  had  not  even  spoken;  it 
was  merely  because  he  looked  at  her  like  that  that 
she  felt  he  needed  help;  he  was  the  kind  of  man 
who  would  always  need  help,  and  a  queer  desire 
came  to  her  to  tell  him  that  she  would  do  what 
she  could  for  him. 

He  advanced  into  the  middle  of  the  room, 
walking  with  a  limp.  Then  a  sudden  shyness 
seized  him,  and  he  paused  awkwardly. 

"  Kate,  are  you  after  forgetting  me?  I'm 
Eugene  Turpin,"  he  said,  and  there  was  a  note 
of  disappointment  in  his  voice. 

She  did  not  heed  it,  for  her  attention  was  caught 
by  his  evident  lameness  and  by  the  changes  in  his 
appearance.  He  had  grown  from  a  youth  into  a 
man  while  she  was  away. 


34,  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

He  shuffled  with  his  feet,  limping  one  step 
forward,  and  then  realising  that  he  had  addressed 
her  she  replied  hastily: 

"  Just  for  a  minute  I  didn't  know  a  bit  of  you, 
Eugene.  Now  I  can  see  you  better.  Oh,  you've 
changed  a  deal." 

"  D'you  think  so?"  he  coloured  up  and  hesi- 
tated; "I  —  I  —  and  you're  the  same  as  you  ever 
were.  There's  not  a  hair  of  you  that's  changed." 

"And  what  way  would  I  be  changed?"  she 
asked  lightly. 

He  hesitated  again,  twisting  his  broad-brimmed 
black  hat  nervously  round  between  his  fingers  — 
"I  —  well  —  I  couldn't  say  exactly.  It's  five 
long  years  since  you  left  Droumavalla,  and  a  deal 
can  happen  in  five  years.  You've  a  right  to  be 
changed.  Anyways  I  —  I'm  glad  you're  the 
same." 

Perhaps  it  was  the  manner  in  which  it  was  said 
more  even  than  the  words  themselves  that  made 
Kate  feel  a  little  thrill  of  pleasure  at  this  last  re- 
mark; and  there  was  a  cordial  friendliness  in  her 
voice  as  she  asked  him  to  sit  down  and  have  a 
chat  with  her,  and  tell  her  about  himself. 

'You're  a  bit  lame?"  she  said  as  he  settled 
himself  rather  clumsily  into  a  chair. 

"  Lame !  I've  been  that  way  a  year  and  more. 
I've  forgotten  what  it's  like  to  walk  straight." 

"  Indeed  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that.  It  must  be 
very  bad  surely." 

"  Ah,  it's  nothing  to  speak  of,"  he  replied  shyly; 
"  it  only  comes  against  me  ploughing,  or  after  a 


35 

hard  day's  work.  Dr.  Murphy  says  it  may  heal 
up  all  right  some  time  or  other." 

"  And  how  did  you  get  the  lameness?  Was 
it  a  stroke  of  the  ball  at  hurley?  " 

"  It  started  with  sprains  in  my  two  ankles. 
I  was  running  with  the  harriers  one  Sunday,  and 
lepping  a  ditch  overright  the  Sheep's  Walk  I 
landed  on  a  rotten  bit  of  stick,  and  I  looked  down 
and  saw  my  two  feet  going  easht  and  wesht.  The 
boys  had  to  carry  me  home  that  day.  The  sprains 
put  a  weakness  on  the  ankle,  and  three  months 
after  at  hurley  a  stroke  from  John  Walsh's 
cumaun,  fair  and  square  on  me  right  foot,  finished 
it." 

Kate  began  to  express  her  sympathy,  but  he 
cut  her  short  seeming  not  to  want  to  speak  of 
it,  questioning  her  about  her  life  in  the  States, 
how  she  had  got  on  there  and  whether  she  liked 
it,  and  didn't  find  Droumavalla  a  slow  kind  of 
place  after  the  big  towns.  They  were  both  of 
them  a  little  nervous  in  their  talk,  both  of  them 
anxious,  afraid  of  the  inevitable  theme  that  must 
come  uppermost  in  their  conversation  sooner  or 
later. 

"  Once  or  twice  out  there  I'd  be  thinking  of 
you  and  wondering  if  you'd  emigrated,"  she  said; 
"  and  I'd  imagine  you'd  be  out  West  —  in  Texas 
maybe.  Oh,  I  never  thought  to  see  you  at  home." 

"  And  why  would  I  go  to  Texas?  "  he  inquired 
hastily  for  conversation's  sake,  feeling  the  chill 
threatening  of  the  shadow  that  must  fall  between 
them. 


36  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  In  Texas  you'd  get  land  for  nothing,"  she 
replied;  "  and  you  were  always  great  at  farming. 
I  guess  a  hundred  and  fifty  acres  and  not  a  penny 
paid  down  seems  the  real  thing  to  you.  But  you'd 
have  to  clear  the  land  of  trees.  The  clearing 
would  take  a  lifetime.  Sure  the  roots  have  been 
there  since  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Oh,  life 
in  Texas  would  be  no  joke  I  can  tell  you.  It's 
them  that  aren't  wary  that  takes  land  there." 
She  paused,  her  attention  caught  by  the  fact  that 
he  was  in  dark  clothes,  in  his  best  suit  only  worn 
on  Sundays,  holidays,  at  funerals,  and  on  other 
festive  occasions.  By  rights  he  should  be  wear- 
ing his  white  flannel  bawneen,  the  usual  rough 
work-a-day  garments  that  in  bad  or  good  weather 
must  be  put  on  for  the  fields. 

He  was  conscious  that  she  was  eyeing  him 
curiously.  It  made  him  uneasy,  and  he  sought  for 
some  remark  to  divert  her  attention,  to  bridge  the 
silence. 

"  There'll  be  no  emigration  for  me  now,"  he 
said;  "  indeed  I  never  wanted  to  go  to  America, 
I'd  ever  and  always  a  great  wish  to  live  my  life 
in  Droumavalla  and  mind  the  farm." 

"No  emigration?  Oh,  I  was  forgetting." 
Kate  had  scarcely  voiced  the  question  when  they 
both  realised  at  the  same  moment  that  the  time 
had  come  when  they  must  face  the  pain  of  intimate 
conversation,  when  words  must  be  spoken  about 
the  two  that  were  gone. 

"  Eugene,"  she  began,  "  I  was  very  sorry  — 
oh,  there's  no  way  I  can  say  it."  She  made  a 
helpless  gesture  with  her  hands. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  37 

"  It's  a  hard  case  surely,"  he  replied.  "  Oh, 
there's  nothing  we  can  ever  say." 

"Tell  me,  how  is  Mrs.  Turpin?  What  way 
did  she  take  it?  She  must  have  been  near  out  of 
her  mind  for  those  two  lovely  boys." 

"  Ah,  the  half  of  her  isn't  there  with  all  she's 
gone  through.  At  the  start  it  was  very  bad.  To 
hear  her  crying  was  something  frightful  altogether 

—  and  I  had  no  word  to  say." 

"  May  the  Lord  look  down  on  her  the  creature. 
Oh,  'twas  very  hard." 

"  Indeed  it  was  hard.  For  there  were  two 
roads  coming  to  the  house  and  one  took  one  road 
and  one  the  other." 

"  Did  she  feel  that?  But  what  did  it  matter 
with  the  two  gone  from  her  for  ever  and  always?  " 

"  Faith,  it  mattered  greatly.  She  couldn't 
sleep  at  nights;  she'd  be  tormenting  herself  about 
the  bitter  quarrel  between  them.  And  I'd  be 
sitting  watching  her  and  I  couldn't  do  nothing. 
And  she'd  ask  me  would  they  ever  come  together 
again.  And  when  I  said  they  would  says  she, 
'  No,  never  again,  the  hate  was  that  hot  in  them 

—  never  again.'  ' 

"  Hate  !  "  Kate  exclaimed.  "  God  be  good  to 
us,  sure  they  didn't  carry  their  hatred  with  them 
to  the  grave?  " 

"  Ay  so  —  bitter  scalding  hate." 

She  caught  hold  of  the  table,  gripping  it  as 
if  for  support.  She  couldn't  bear  to  think  of 
such  a  horror;  it  was  so  terrible  it  must  be  im- 
possible, and  an  eager  protest  broke  from  her 
lips  —  "  Don't  be  saying  that,  Eugene.  They'd 


88  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

great  love  for  each  other.  There  was  never  an 
angry  word  between  them.  Oh,  I  don't  believe 
you.  It  can't  be  true." 

"  It's  the  truth,"  he  replied. 

"And  the  poor  mother,  God  help  her?" 

"  You  may  well  say  that,"  Eugene  continued. 
"  There  was  no  rest  nor  sleep  for  her  in  those 
first  months.  Oh,  'twould  make  the  stones  cry 
to  see  her.  She  was  worn  to  a  shadow.  But 
one  night  a  bright  thought  came  to  me  mind.  I 
took  Steve's  volunteer  uniform  and  Michael's 
khaki,  and  I  put  the  one  upon  the  other  and  laid 
them  on  her  bed,  the  green  and  the  yellow.  'Tis 
for  luck,'  says  I,  '  maybe  it  will  bring  the  two  of 
them  together.'  '  Maybe  so,'  says  she,  quite 
happy  like.  And  after  that  she  slept  like  a  child. 
She  sleeps  every  night  through  now,  for  she  never 
forgets  to  put  the  two  uniforms,  the  one  upon  the 
other,  on  her  bed." 

Kate  made  a  movement  which  told  him  more 
clearly  than  words  that  she  could  bear  no  more 
at  the  moment,  and  she  turned  her  face  from  him 
and  gazed  broodingly  into  the  fire. 

For  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more  there  was 
no  sound  save  the  tick,  tick  of  the  clock  in  the 
kitchen.  No  measure  of  time  can  measure  grief, 
and  those  moments  of  struggle  in  the  toils  of 
regret  and  sorrow  were  the  longest  Kate  had  ever 
spent  in  her  life.  She  was  saying  over  and  over 
to  herself  that  perhaps  she  might  have  prevented 
the  quarrel  if  she  had  stayed  at  home;  that  her 
influence  was  great  with  them;  that  she  would 
have  forced  them  to  make  it  up.  She  could  face 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  39 

the  sorrow  of  their  loss,  but  she  could  not  face 
the  calamity  of  their  hate,  the  thought  that  these 
two,  who  had  been  ever  as  one,  were  now  hope- 
lessly divided.  What  would  be  the  consequence 
in  the  next  world?  What  would  it  mean  to  them 
now  ?  As  the  unknown  confronted  her  she  gave  a 
little  piteous  cry,  "  They'd  have  listened  to  me 
for  sure  if  I'd  been  home." 

The  clatter  of  a  chair  and  Eugene's  voice  in 
her  ear  brought  her  back  to  a  consciousness  of 
his  presence  again. 

"  I'd  best  be  going,"  he  said.  "  Don't  take 
on  too  much,  Kate.  'Twasn't  in  your  hands. 
You  couldn't  have  prevented  it;  no  man  or  woman 
in  this  wide  earthly  world  could  have  prevented 
what  occurred." 

"  Are  you  certain  sure  of  that?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I'd  take  my  oath  on  it,"  he  replied.  '"  It's 
God's  truth." 

As  he  made  another  movement  to  go  she  laid 
a  detaining  hand  on  his  sleeve.  "  Don't  be  leav- 
ing me,  Eugene,"  she  begged.  "  I  don't  want  to 
be  left  to  meself.  It's  like  having  a  bit  of  them 
there  to  see  you  sitting  by  the  fire  forenenst  me." 

They  settled  down  to  talk  again,  but  it  was 
impossible  to  discuss  the  small  events  of  life  with 
this  big  trouble  waiting  near  them,  a  trouble  that 
must  be  shared  more  fully  before  it  could  be 
locked  away  for  ever  in  the  silence  of  their  minds. 
And  after  a  few  words  had  been  said  by  Eugene 
about  Denis  and  his  marriage  Kate  changed  the 
subject  abruptly. 

"  How  is  your  father  keeping?  "  she  inquired. 


40  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  What  way  did  he  take  it?     He  doated  on  them 
boys." 

"  It  made  him  hard  and  sour  like.  He's  as 
hard  as  the  Rock  of  Cashel  this  day.  You  know 
he's  all  for  money  and  land,  and  we'd  a  grand 
farm  and  nothing  to  pay  for  labour  as  long  as 
Michael  and  Steve  were  working  there.  But  it's 
gone  back  on  us  a  great  deal  lately.  My  ankle 
comes  against  me.  I'm  not  as  good  value  as  a 
boy,  not  worth  the  food  I  eat,  he  says;  and  he's 
never  done  tormenting  me  for  laming  myself  at 
the  hurley." 

"  Surely  to  goodness  he'd  value  the  one  son 
that's  left  him  in  his  age?  " 

"Ah,  not  he.  And  why  would  he?  I'm  a 
sore  disappointment  to  him,  I'm  a  bit  soft  and 
a  waster.  With  my  ankle  like  this  I  can't  do 
a  man's  work.  He's  a  right  to  curse  me.  I've 
only  myself  to  blame." 

"  Hasn't  he  enough  and  to  spare?  Oh,  they're 
queer  things  them  grabblers.  Sure  he  can't  carry 
his  money  to  the  grave  with  him."  As  Kate  said 
this  she  looked  at  the  fine  handsome  man  before 
her,  looked  at  his  face  with  its  wistful  gentle 
expression  and  beautiful  eyes,  looked  at  his  figure, 
long  and  lithe,  perfectly  made;  and  she  marvelled 
that  his  father  should  take  no  pride  in  him,  should 
regard  him  as  he  would  a  plough  or  a  harrow, 
merely  as  an  instrument  for  gain. 

Eugene  seemed  to  feel  the  sympathy  in  her 
voice  and  in  her  gaze,  for  he  leant  towards  her 
saying:  "The  old  man  wants  to  have  the  finest 
farm  of  land  in  the  country,  and  he's  right.  It's 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  41 

what  I'd  like  myself.  And  if  my  ankle  was  cured 
and  I'd  my  own  way  up  there  it'd  be  the  best 
kept  farm  in  Munster.  Howsomever,  himself 
is  old-fashioned  and  set  in  his  ways.  Look  at 
the  potatoes  itself.  For  years  he  wouldn't  do  any 
spraying,  he  said  it  was  against  the  will  of  God; 
it  wasn't  right.  Now  he  wouldn't  be  without 
spraying  twice  a  year  for  anything.  But  I  was 
long  ages  winning  him  round  and  we  lost  two 
good  crops  on  the  head  of  it.  That's  what  occurs 
with  all  the  new  inventions,  he'll  keep  to  the  old 
ways  and  he  won't  try  any  of  the  new.  Ah,  Kate, 
I  wouldn't  ask  for  more  than  a  farm  of  me  own 
and  a  free  hand  to  work  it." 

Every  fibre  of  her  nature  responded  to  these 
last  words  of  his,  and  she  stretched  out  an  eager 
hand  in  sympathy.  "  I'm  thinking  I  know  what 
you  mean,"  she  said.  "Oh,  it's  fine;  it  would 
give  such  a  happy  feel.  Tell  me  more  of  what 
you'd  like  to  be  doing  up  there?  " 

He  did  not  answer  at  once,  there  was  a  pause, 
and  then  the  kitchen  clock  began  to  chime;  and 
as  the  ten  strokes  beat  softly  through  the  room 
the  light  died  out  of  his  face.  He  rose  from  his 
chair. 

"  I  can't  stay  a  minute  longer,"  was  his  reply. 
"  We'll  have  a  talk  another  time,  Kate.  To- 
morrow evening  maybe." 

"  Yerra,  what's  your  hurry!  It's  only  gone 
ten.  Come  —  sit  down.  You  can  stay  another 
half-hour,  I  guess." 

"  I  couldn't  stay  one  minute  longer.  I'm  late 
as  it  is." 


42  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"And  for  why?  Sure  the  night  is  young 
yet." 

"  I'd  be  afraid,"  he  replied  uneasily.  "  I 
couldn't  stay  really." 

The  agitation  in  his  manner  surprised  her,  and 
she  said  coldly,  "  It's  a  queer  welcome  to  give  me 
just  to  come  and  look  at  me  and  then  go  away 
again." 

He  made  a  step  towards  the  door,  halting  ir- 
resolutely, and  finally  turning  round  with  an  ex- 
pression of  distress  on  his  face.  "  Believe  me, 
Kate,  I'd  like  dearly  to  stay,"  he  said.  "  But  I 
wouldn't  dare.  It's  himself.  He  thinks  I'm 
cutting  turf  in  the  red  bog.  Wild  out  he'd  be 
with  me  if  he  found  me  gone." 

"And  what  matter  if  he  did  find  you  gone?  " 

11  He'd  be  mad." 

"  Sure  let  him  be  mad." 

"  I'd  be  afraid.  He'd  give  me  all  sorts.  I'd 
never  hear  the  end  of  it." 

"  Afraid  of  an  old  man !  What  good  are  you 
at  all,  Eugene?  "  She  gave  him  a  contemptuous 
look. 

He  winced,  but  did  not  reply,  holding  out  his 
hand  to  her.  She  would  not  take  it,  and  he 
turned  and  limped  slowly  from  the  kitchen. 

A  moment  later  she  repented  and  followed 
him  out  to  the  yard  where  his  pony  was  tied  up 
to  a  nail.  There  she  told  him  she  was  sorry, 
and  as  she  bade  him  good-bye  asked  him  to  come 
and  see  her  again.  He  promised  to  do  so,  and 
begged  her  on  no  account  to  go  out  the  following 
evening,  but  to  wait  in  for  him. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  43 

She  stood  for  a  long  time  at  the  gate  of  the. 
farm,  gazing  down  the  road,  round  the  bend  of 
which  his  cart  had  disappeared.  Her  thoughts 
were  following  him,  and  they  were  disappointed 
ones,  heavy  with  regret  and  unshed  tears.  He 
was  so  like  Michael  and  Steve;  in  a  thousand 
ways  he  reminded  her  of  the  two  boys  she  used 
to  know;  like  them  he  had  the  spirit  of  a  true 
farmer.  Why  then  was  he  so  weak?  Why 
was  he  completely  under  his  father's  rule?  To 
her  knowledge  they  had  never  been  afraid  of 
anything,  fear  had  no  meaning  for  them.  They 
had  been  dutiful  sons  when  working  for  their 
father,  but  they  had  never  come  to  heel  like  a 
cringing  dog.  Eugene  had  behaved  in  an  un- 
manly way;  he  was  unworthy  of  his  two  brothers; 
she  could  not  forgive  him  for  the  fear  she  had 
seen  in  his  eyes  that  evening.  Such  high  value 
did  she  set  on  courage  and  independence  of  char- 
acter that  his  strong  resemblance  to  Michael  and 
to  Steve  seemed  to  her  now  to  cast  a  slur  upon 
their  memory. 

She  questioned  Denis  about  him,  and  learnt  that 
she  had  not  judged  too  hastily;  that  she  was  fully 
justified  in  not  taking  his  hand  at  parting.  Not 
only  was  he  at  the  beck  and  call  of  his  father, 
but  he  lived  in  daily  dread  of  him.  Denis  told 
her  that  old  John  Turpin  was  continually  bullying 
and  abusing  his  son,  keeping  him  at  work  the 
seven  days  of  the  week;  that  Eugene  did  not 
know  an  hour's  peace  or  rest  unless  he  escaped 
from  his  master  by  subterfuge;  and  that  he  went 
about  like  a  haunted  man. 


44  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

At  the  mere  sound  of  his  father's  voice  he 
started  and  turned  pale,  and  in  spite  of  the  latter's 
grumbling  and  complaining  he  did  a  man's  work, 
for  he  did  not  go  down  to  the  cross-roads  like 
other  men,  or  hang  round  the  chapel  after  Mass 
for  a  gossip,  or  join  in  the  games.  He  always 
seemed  to  be  busy,  always  at  work,  making  up 
for  his  slowness  and  for  the  rests  he  had  to  give 
his  ankle  by  spending  more  time  in  the  fields. 

"  John  Turpin's  been  hard  and  bitter,"  said 
Denis,  "  ever  since  the  two  sons  went  from  him 
leaving  him  short-handed  with  the  farm.  And 
he's  never  done  holding  them  up  as  painted  saints 
to  Eugene.  Oh,  it's  a  strange  thing  the  way 
people  only  value  the  dead.  I've  noticed  it  with 
other  families  too,  they  only  value  those  that  are 
gone,  the  boys  and  girls  that  are  left  they  seemly 
don't  care  a  straw  for." 

This  statement  led  Denis  on  to  tell  of  the 
losses  other  people  had  sustained  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. There  were  very  few  families  death  had 
not  visited.  Droumavalla  was  a  fishing  village, 
its  inhabitants  depending  upon  the  sea  for  their 
livelihood.  Many  of  the  fishermen  were  naval 
reservists  and  had  been  called  up  for  service  at 
the  outbreak  of  war.  Most  of  these  had  been 
drowned  or  killed,  and  others  who  had  joined 
the  merchant  service  had  gone  down  in  the  Cork 
ships,  that  one  by  one  as  the  months  passed  had 
been  sunk  by  submarines;  a  few  more  Kate  had 
known  had  become  Sinn  Feiners,  and  had  been 
killed  in  Dublin  in  the  rising  of  Easter  week; 
the  residue  on  that  grim  list  were  either  wounded, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  45 

prisoners  of  war,  or  had  died  in  France,  or  at  the 
landing  at  Suvla  Bay.  The  district  had  been 
emptied  of  its  young  men  in  the  flower  of  their 
age ;  very  few  of  them  would  ever  return.  Nearly 
all  the  men  of  Kate's  generation  were  gone,  and 
she  would  see  their  faces  no  more. 

"It  isn't  like  other  countries,"  said  Maggie; 
"  the  emigration  drew  a  dale  of  young  men  to 
Ameriky  before  the  War.  And  now  the  big  bat- 
tles have  taken  the  rest.  Oh,  the  stranger  will 
come  to  Droumavalla.  Many  a  good  name  will 
be  gone  from  it  for  ever." 

"  The  young  lads  growing  up  are  Sinn  Feiners," 
broke  in  Denis;  "  there  are  a  few  of  eighteen  and 
nineteen  years.  They're  all  that's  left  now,  and 
what  are  they  but  a  handful." 

Kate  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  crying  softly 
to  herself.  She  wondered  if  God  had  cursed: 
Droumavalla.  In  a  few  years'  time  when  the  old 
people  were  dead  it  would  be  an  empty  land. 
She  had  only  to  name  a  few  families;  the  O'Briens 
of  Courlas,  the  Moriartys  of  Dundullerick,  the 
Roches  of  Kilcully  had  no  descendants  save  three 
in  America.  They  would  not  come  back;  there 
had  been  no  room  for  them  on  the  land  when, 
before  the  War,  farming  was  but  a  poor  trade, 
and  fishing  not  what  it  used  to  be.  They  had 
made  their  own  lives  in  the  West;  there  could  be 
no  return.  So  the  district  would  be  deserted,  and 
the  old  Irish  names  that  had  been  bound  up  with 
the  soil  for  hundreds  of  years  before  the  Union, 
that  had  struggled  through  the  miseries  of  the 
famine  times,  and  were  taking  firm  root  again 


46  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

in  the  twentieth  century,  would  now  be  swept  from 
it  —  buried  in  the  grave  of  the  Great  War. 

Kate's  spirit  was  crushed;  before  this  desolation 
she  had  no  word  to  say,  all  dreams  and  hopes 
left  her.  She  seemed  to  herself  like  some  numbed 
lifeless  creature,  no  pain  could  hurt  her  now: 
she  felt  lost  in  the  great  loneliness  of  life  —  she 
was  no  better  than  a  child  straying  in  the  dark. 
It  was  useless  to  seek  further,  it  was  wiser  to  let 
her  mind  rest.  And  for  the  time  being  sensation 
had  withered  up  within  her;  she  believed  she  would 
not  feel  joy  or  sorrow  again. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  following  evening  Kate  strolled  out  to  meet 
Eugene.  She  had  decided  to  leave  Droumavalla 
at  once;  she  wanted  to  persuade  him  to  leave  it 
also,  or  at  any  rate  to  leave  his  father's  service. 
When  this  object  was  accomplished,  when  she  had 
succeeded  in  extracting  a  promise  from  him  to  put 
his  farm  life  behind  him  and  seek  independence 
she  would  go  to  Dublin  and  look  for  work  there, 
and  she  had  every  reason  to  believe  she  would  find 
employment  that  would  suit  her. 

She  had  gone  to  Mass  that  morning,  and  on 
looking  about  her  during  the  office  had  realised 
that  she  was  a  stranger  in  the  district.  The  old 
people  recognised  her  and  greeted  her  warmly 
when  Mass  was  over,  but  there  was  hardly  any  one 
left  of  her  generation,  not  only  the  boys,  the  girls 
of  her  own  age  were  gone  also  —  most  of  them 
were  away  in  service  or  working  for  high  wages 
in  England.  The  countryside  was  empty,  and 
though  she  loved  it  she  could  not  bear  the  empti- 
ness; there  were  too  many  memories  associated 
with  it;  every  turn  of  the  road  reminded  her  of 
some  one  she  had  known.  It  would  be  like  death 
to  live  on  here  at  Droumavalla  always  looking 
back.  She  would  go  to  Dublin  where  she  would 
make  new  friends;  human  beings  were  essential  to 
her  happiness;  she  believed  that  in  a  crowded  city 

47 


48  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

she  might  eventually  forget;  and  only  in  forgetful- 
ness  would  she  find  peace  of  mind. 

She  halted  at  the  edge  of  Kilcool  Wood,  and 
leaning  on  a  bank,  gazed  down  at  Droumavalla. 
The  village  was  situated  on  the  rocky  side  of  a  hill 
just  above  a  creek  which  ran  for  some  miles  into 
the  land.  She  saw  the  one  hilly  street,  the  little 
white  cottages  nestling  under  the  rock,  a  few  blue- 
jerseyed  figures  lounging  about  the  quay  wall,  and 
beyond,  the  waters  of  the  little  harbour  sparkling 
in  the  evening  light.  A  trawler  was  just  beating 
in  from  the  mouth  against  a  brisk  breeze  and 
another  one  was  dropping  anchor.  These  two 
boats  were  all  that  were  left  of  a  fleet  of  a  dozen 
or  so  fishing  vessels;  the  German  submarines  had 
accounted  for  several,  and  the  others  were  being 
used  for  Government  purposes  along  the  coast. 
Yes,  the  district  was  very  changed;  and  Kate 
turned  with  a  weary  shrug  of  her  shoulders  from 
this  view,  of  which  she  was  very  fond,  and  gazed 
inland.  She  noticed  four  fine  bullocks  in  a  hay- 
field  munching  the  fresh  tender  grass  voraciously, 
flicking  their  tails  to  and  fro,  now  and  then  biting 
at  flies  on  their  backs;  a  little  further  on  she  per- 
ceived ridges  of  beautiful  potatoes  and  beside  them 
a  field  of  oats  almost  ripe  for  cutting.  The  sight 
pleased  her,  and  in  spite  of  folly  of  such  scheming 
she  began  to  plan  out  a  farm  of  her  own,  what 
crops  she  would  sow,  and  what  stock  she  would 
raise. 

The  sound  of  a  cart  grinding  along  the  stony 
road  put  an  end  to  her  planning,  causing  her  to 
raise  her  eyes.  She  perceived  Eugene  driving 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  49 

towards  her.  Having  tied  the  animal  to  a  gate  he 
joined  her  explaining  that  he  had  had  to  drive  the 
four  miles  as  it  was  not  possible  for  him  to  walk 
them  after  the  day's  work;  and  he  had  therefore 
been  delayed  because  the  old  man  would  hang 
round  the  yard,  and  it  was  only  after  half  an 
hour's  waiting  he  had  been  able  to  get  out  the  cart 
without  his  knowledge. 

"  These  are  fine  fields,"  said  Kate  abruptly, 
trying  to  hide  the  displeasure  she  felt  on  hearing 
of  this  secretiveness. 

"  D'you  think  so?  "  he  replied,  his  face  bright- 
ening. "  I  sowed  that  field  of  oats.  I  put  down 
them  potatoes,  and  those  are  bullocks  of  my  own 
raring.  But  my  father  sold  ground,  crops  and  all, 
to  one  Finucane.  It's  too  far  from  Coomacarn. 
We  couldn't  work  the  two  with  any  ease." 

"  Well,  then,  they're  a  credit  to  you,"  she  said, 
looking  at  him  admiringly.  "  Oh,  Eugene,  I  wish 
to  my  heart  I  could  change  you  a  bit.  There  are 
some  things  that  are  grand  in  you  and  others  I 
don't  like  at  all." 

He  asked  her  what  they  were,  and  she  gave  him 
her  candid  opinion  of  his  character,  analysing  what 
she  regarded  as  his  weakness,  his  dread  of  his 
father  in  detail,  and  finally  begging  him  to  shake 
off  the  old  man's  yoke  and  strike  out  on  his  own. 
Let  him  emigrate  if  necessary,  at  any  rate  put 
forth  some  strong  effort  to  free  himself  before  all 
the  life  and  spirit  in  him  was  sucked  away  by  his 
father. 

"  Go  off  to  the  States,  Eugene,"  she  cried. 
"  You'll  get  land  in  Texas  as  I  was  telling  you. 


50  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Cleave  yourself  out  of  this  altogether  and  be  a 
man.     I  know  well  there  are  the  makings  of  one 

in  you." 

He  turned  on  her  with  a  fierceness  she  had  not 
thought  possible  in  one  so  gentle.  "  I'm  not  a 
stone,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I  love  Ireland  and 
Droumavalla,  and  why  would  I  leave  it  for  a 
foreign  land?  " 

"  Then  look  for  work  in  Ireland.  But  don't 
let  any  one  living  treat  you  as  if  you  were  a  cur 
dog." 

"  And  what  would  I  do  and  where  would  I  go 
if  I  left  Coomacarn?"  he  retorted.  "  I'm  only 
good  for  farming,  and  what  farmer  would  be  fool 
enough  to  hire  me,  a  lame  man,  as  a  labourer?  " 

"Well,  anyway,"  she  exclaimed  hotly,  "I'd 
put  my  head  in  the  fire  rather  than  serve  one  that 
had  nothing  but  curses  for  me."  With  this  she 
broke  off  in  her  speech.  Perhaps  she  felt  she  had 
said  too  much,  for  her  voice  altered,  she  began  to 
plead  with  him  again.  "  Listen  to  me  now.  If 
you're  dead  set  on  not  leaving  him  stand  up  to  him, 
don't  bow  the  knee  to  him,  don't  let  him  rule  you. 
Sure  your  life  isn't  worth  a  rotten  knot  if  you're 
shaking  with  dread  night  and  day  —  afraid  to  take 
out  the  car,  afraid  to  go  and  see  a  friend,  afraid 
to  take  an  hour's  rest  at  the  day's  end.  You  earn 
more  than  your  keep.  Give  it  into  him  high  and 
low  if  he  abuses  you.  Let  him  see  you're  a  man, 
let  him  know  you  won't  stand  his  talk  and  his 
bullying." 

'  Then  he'll  leave  the  farm  to  my  sister  Eily 
who's  married  in   the   States,"   Eugene   replied 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  51 

sullenly,  "  and  she'll  let  it  to  a  grazier.  He's 
sworn  he'll  leave  it  to  her  more  than  once  already 
when  he  was  angered." 

"  Ah,  that's  his  blather.  He  wouldn't  do  it. 
I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  you,  Eugene," 
she  continued  reflectively;  "  I  know  I  wouldn't  let 
myself  be  trampled  on,  I  wouldn't  bear  it  for  an 
hour." 

"  Kate  —  "  he  hesitated,  the  shyness  he  had 
shown  at  their  first  meeting  getting  the  better 
of  him  again,  and  he  carefully  twisted  a  blade 
of  oats  he  had  plucked  round  his  hand  making 
a  criss-cross  pattern  of  it.  No  sooner  was  the 
pattern  completed  than  he  began  to  loosen  the 
pale  strands  of  straw  and  went  on : 

"  Maybe  I'm  a  fool,  but  I  —  I'm  like  Steve 
and  Michael  and  all  the  rest  of  the  Turpins. 
They  loved  the  land  and  'tis  great  love  I  have 
for  it  too.  Ever  since  I  was  the  height  of  three 
peats  I've  wanted  to  be  master  of  a  fine  farm  of 
land  somewhere,  and  best  of  all  Coomacarn.  I 
know  it  so  well ;  I  know  what  every  inch  of  ground 
can  yield,  what  stock  I  can  raise,  and  if  I'd  a 
free  hand  it's  great  improvements  I'd  make.  I'd 
buy  machines.  I'd  save  a  bit  of  money  and  I'd 
add  to  the  farm  year  by  year  a  field  here,  a  field 
there,  till  the  time  would  come  when  Cooma- 
carn would  be  a  wonder  and  a  marvel  to  the  whole 
neighbourhood." 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  grand  entirely,  the  best  work 
in  the  world,"  she  cried,  her  eyes  as  bright  as  his 
now. 

"  I  daresay  it  seems  a  mean  foolish  kind  of 


52  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

a  notion  to  you,"  he  replied  shyly,  "  after  the  big 
towns  in  the  States  and  the  great  places  you've 
seen  over  there.  You're  too  high-toned  for  that 
sort  of  thing  with  all  the  grandeurs  of  the  great 
cities  behind  you.  Oh,  I'll  engage  there's  a  strong 
wish  in  your  mind  to  be  off  to  them  again." 

He  watched  her  as  he  spoke,  but  she  did  not 
heed  the  anxious  questioning  expression  of  his 
face  so  eager  was  she  to  refute  this  monstrous 
libel  to  tell  him  that  it  was  the  land  that  called 
her  back.  What  matter  if  it  was  only  a  half- 
truth.  She  would  not  admit  to  him  that  Michael 
and  Steve  had  had  their  share  in  that  summons 
home.  The  story  was  a  long  one;  it  embraced 
most  of  her  life  in  America,  her  craving  when 
shut  up  in  the  hot  towns  for  the  fields,  her  desire 
through  all  for  farm  life  and  farm  work,  for 
harvest  days,  the  hay-fork  in  her  hands,  or  the 
sheaves  of  corn  in  her  arms,  the  warm  moist 
wind  playing  across  her  face  and  through  her 
hair.  The  two  were  so  intent  upon  this  theme 
they  scarcely  noticed  how  the  time  fled  by,  and 
darkness  was  upon  them  before  Kate  realised  the 
lateness  of  the  hour.  Her  anger  was  gone  and 
he  found  it  easy  to  extract  a  promise  from  her 
to  come  each  evening  to  Kilcool  Wood  and  wait 
there  a  while  for  him.  He,  on  his  part,  promised 
to  try  and  escape  from  Coomacarn  as  often  as 
was  possible. 

A  fortnight  went  by  during  which  Kate  did  not 
leave  Rathmore  during  the  day,  nor  did  she  at- 
tempt to  seek  the  society  of  the  people  in  the 
village,  but  every  night  regularly  she  set  out  for 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  55 

Kilcool  Wood.  Eugene  missed  very  few  even- 
ings, and  on  two  occasions  defied  his  father  when 
the  latter  ordered  .him  to  stay  at  home  and  get 
on  with  work  upon  which  they  were  engaged. 
Kate  had  put  off  her  journey  to  Dublin,  and  she 
assured  herself  it  was  for  this  reason.  She  be- 
lieved she  was  gradually  curing  Eugene  of  his 
fear  for  his  father,  she  was  making  a  man  of  him. 

On  those  still  August  nights  they  would  sit 
upon  a  bank  and  look  over  the  bay,  watching  the 
two  trawlers  creeping  in,  the  lights  changing  in 
the  skies,  the  shadows  falling  across  the  water, 
one  by  one,  from  the  opposite  hills.  On  bad  days 
they  witnessed  the  dark-blue  clouds,  heavy  with 
rain,  racing  inland  from  the  sea  or  a  mist  drifting 
up  from  the  south  cloaking  the  farther  shore  with 
heavy  veils.  There  were  long  contented  silences; 
but  more  often  they  talked  with  eager  gestures 
and  a  rapid  flow  of  words;  they  had  much  to  tell 
each  other  when  the  mood  for  speech  possessed 
them. 

Sometimes,  when  the  evenings  were  long  and 
bright,  they  wandered  through  the  wood  listening 
in  the  twilight  of  the  trees  to  owls  hooting  and 
gulls  calling,  or  in  the  late  evening  to  the  whine 
of  the  bats  as  they  flew  to  and  fro.  It  was  here, 
in  Kilcool  Wood,  Eugene  whispered  confidences 
to  Kate,  and  she  listened  with  a  grave  quietness, 
feeling  immeasurably  older  than  him,  pitying  him 
for  what  she  regarded  as  strange,  childish  foolish- 
ness only  to  be  found  in  men,  and  yet  that  foolish- 
ness was  just  what  made  them  so  lovable.  They 
had  great  plans,  great  ideas,  very  often  of  an 


54  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

absurd  nature,  impossible  to  carry  put,  but  quite 
beyond  the  measure  of  a  woman's  mind,  an  instru- 
ment that  was  too  practical  to  grow  them,  nourish 
them  and  bring  them  to  the  fine  maturity  that 
begets  good  talk  and  a  flowing  speech.  At  other 
times  Eugene  ventured  further  still;  there  were 
moments  when  he  laid  bare  his  heart  to  her  telling 
her  of  the  loneliness  and  isolation  of  his  life. 
The  friends  of  his  youth,  the  boys  he  had  grown 
up  with  were  gone  from  Droumavalla ;  he  had  not 
time  to  seek  new  friends;  nor  would  they  have 
been  easy  to  find,  for  he  could  not  join  in  games 
or  sports.  And  one  soft  evening,  when  he  and 
Kate  were  leaning  against  a  bank  looking  over  the 
bay  as  usual,  he  told  her  how  sometimes  in  the 
winter  when  the  short  days  and  bad  weather  cut 
Coomacarn  off  from  the  outside  world  and  for 
weeks  together  he  saw  no  one  save  his  father, 
his  mother  and  a  labourer  he  used  to  think  he 
would  go  mad.  His  mother's  silence,  his  father's 
daily  grumbling  and  abuse  were  bad  enough,  but 
far  worse  were  the  memories  of  Michael  and 
Steve;  every  corner  of  the  house,  the  fields,  the 
trees,  the  haggard,  the  little  river  and  the  bog  be- 
low reminded  him  in  different  ways  of  the  two 
boys.  Where  there  had  been  life,  joking  and 
talk  there  was  solitude  and  silence.  He  did  not 
know  how  he  could  face  another  winter  of  that 
kind. 

"  For  all  you  say  I'm  thinking  'twould  be  far 
better  for  you  to  leave  Coomacarn,"  said  Kate, 
"  and  make  your  living  in  another  place." 

"Indeed  it  would  not  be  better,"  he  replied; 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  55 

"  but  if  some  one  fresh,  some  one  new  was  to 
come  there  'twould  all  be  different,  and  I'm  certain 
sure  I'd  never  feel  lonely  again." 

A  queer  glow  of  pleasure  like  the  sensation  of 
sun  when  it  creeps  out  suddenly  from  behind  the 
clouds  after  a  blank  grey  day  seized  upon  Kate  as 
she  listened  to  these  words.  She  did  not  answer 
them  and  turned  a  little  away  from  him  looking 
out  to  sea.  She  was  very  conscious  of  his  pres- 
ence, of  his  questioning  eyes;  they  were  more 
piercing  than  a  star  now.  They  wanted  to  know 
everything,  and  how  could  she  tell  him  what  she 
did  not  know  herself,  when  all  was  happy  con- 
fusion. She,  who  had  believed  joy  was  to  be  a 
stranger  to  her  from  that  time  forward,  was  feel- 
ing it  acutely  in  all  her  being. 

Pain  and  pleasure  are  the  sum  of  joy,  the  one 
purifying  the  other,  and  a  struggle  that  troubled 
Kate,  and  yet  gave  her  a  poignant  happiness,  was 
going  on  in  her  mind.  She  knew  what  he  was 
going  to  say.  Must  she  let  him  speak?  She 
would  not  turn  her  head  but  glanced  once  at 
his  long  figure,  a  little  bent  as  he  leant  forward, 
his  lips  close  to  her  ear.  Oh,  it  would  be  better 
not  to  let  him  say  the  words.  It  was  all  wrong 
—  graves  freshly  made  were  only  a  little  way 
behind  them.  At  any  rate  she  must  put  him  off, 
she  must  gain  time  to  think;  she  wanted  no  more 
than  that.  There  were  two  roads  from  which  to 
choose,  one  a  winding  and  uncertain  track,  hidden 
quickly  from  view,  the  other  straight  and  level  that 
would  be  hers  to  follow  for  life,  one  that  she 
might  have  chosen  long  ago  if  that  very  twisting 


56  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  turning,  that  quality  of  the  unseen,  had  not 
caught  her  fancy,  but  times  had  changed;  she  had 
travelled  great  ways;  she  knew  all  its  mystery  now. 

Encouraged  by  her  silence  Eugene  had  drawn 
a  little  nearer  to  her,  saying,  u  My  father  will  be 
at  Middleton  Fair  to-morrow  and  I  want  you  to 
come  up  and  see  Coomacarn.  I've  something  to 
say  to  you,  Kate,  that  maybe  would  be  best  said 
there."' 

She  made  a  sign  of  assent  with  her  head,  feeling 
relieved  and  glad;  there  would  be  a  little  time 
to  think  after  all. 

A  few  minutes  of  silence  followed,  and  desiring 
to  break  them  she  slipped  from  the  bank  to  the 
ground.  Then  he  spoke  again : 

"  Ah,  what  good  is  there  in  waiting.  Indeed, 
I  can't  wait.  Kate,  there  are  things  I've  been 
meaning  to  say  to  you  this  while  back,  words  that 
are  burning  and  scalding  in  me,  and  they  crying 
out  for  speech." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  slipping  down  from 
the  bank,  taking  hold  of  her  hand,  and  trying 
to  get  her  to  face  him. 

She  could  not  speak  nor  make  any  movement 
though  she  wanted  to  push  away  his  hand  to  pre- 
vent what  was  coming,  for  her  cool  reasoning 
faculty  was  gone  from  her.  She  was  vaguely 
aware  of  this  desertion,  aware  that  she  would  not 
be  able  to  resist  the  words.  Once  they  were 
spoken  she  knew  she  would  have  to  tell  him  that 
the  same  road  would  carry  them  both  to  the  end. 

"  Kate,  look  at  me  now  fair  and  square,  and  say 
out  to  me  — "  he  began,  but  got  no  further,  draw- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  57 

ing  back  from  her  exclaiming:  "  My  God,  .  .  . 
you  to  be  here !  " 

A  squarely  built  man  of  middle  height,  with 
wild  tufted  grey  hair,  a  goat's  beard,  and  a  curi- 
ously malignant  expression  on  his  seamed  face,  was 
standing  on  the  bank  above  them.  He  was  wear- 
ing a  ragged  bawneen,  and  carried  a  stick  in  his 
hand,  with  which  he  threatened  Eugene,  exclaim- 
ing: 

"  So  it's  here  you  are  in  hide.  Begob,  you're 
a  nice  one,  a  picked  blackguard  idling  under  the 
hedges  with  ten  men's  labour  waiting  for  you  on 
the  farm.  Oh,  I'll  have  your  life  for  this  I  will 
—  leaving  the  weight  of  the  work  to  me,  streeling 
round  the  country  with  girls." 

Kate  recognised  old  John  Turpin,  and  as  he 
descended  from  the  bank  she  stepped  forward,  for 
Eugene  made  no  movement  and  uttered  no  sound, 
staring  vacantly  at  his  father. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Turpin,"  she  said,  "  Eugene 
has  a  right  to  do  what  he  pleases,  and  go  where 
he  pleases  when  his  day's  work  is  done.  Surely 
at  this  hour  of  night  it's  time  for  him  to  take  a 
rest." 

"  Oh  ho,  so  it's  you  that  have  been  idling  him 
and  wasting  his  time  —  drawing  him  away  from 
the  farm  these  weeks  past,"  returned  the  old  man, 
approaching  her,  and  blinking  up  in  her  face. 
"  Let  you  mind  your  own  business  then,  and  cut 
your  sticks  out  of  this,  you  shameless  hussy,  or 
it'll  be  the  worse  for  you." 

"  Father  —  do  you  know  who  you're  speaking 
to?"  Eugene  seemed  to  writhe  out  the  words 


58  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

rather  than  utter  them.  "  It's  Denis  Carmody's 
sister." 

Denis  was  a  strong  farmer  with  whom  John 
Turpin  often  did  business,  and  it  was  not  to  his 
interest  to  give  offence,  so  his  aggressive  manner 
altered,  and  he  replied  to  her  remark  in  surly  but 
more  civil  tones: 

"I  didn't  know  ye.  But  I'd  be  thankful  if 
you'd  leave  my  son  to  me.  I'll  settle  him,  I 
will." 

Kate  would  have  made  some  sharp  retort  if 
Eugene  had  not  checked  her  with  an  agonised  mo- 
tion of  his  hand. 

"  I've  had  enough  of  you  and  your  idle  waste- 
ful ways,"  his  father  continued.  "  You  think  be- 
cause I'm  old  you  can  play  on  me,  do  you  ?  You 
think  you  can  give  me  the  slip  the  minute  my  back 
is  turned,  you  scoundrel?" 

"  Father  —  come  home  —  if  you  want  to  curse 
me  come  on  away  out  of  this.  Don't  be  shaming 
me  here,"  Eugene  begged  in  a  quick,  low  mutter. 

"  Now  don't  rise  me  by  your  talk.  I  don't 
wish  to  be  provoked,"  shouted  the  old  man. 
"  Oh,  I'll  shame  you,  I  will.  I'll  show  Miss  Car- 
mody  the  kind  of  man  you  are.  Look  at  him, 
ma'am,  a  waster  and  a  pure  blackguard.  Oh,  you 
wouldn't  know  the  torment  he  is  to  me.  The  turf 
rick  isn't  started  itself.  The  oats  field  isn't  cut 
yet,  and  it's  more  than  ripe  for  the  scythe.  And 
as  for  the  wheat,  God  knows  when  'twill  be  reaped. 
The  birds  are  ating  it,  and  the  next  fall  of  rain 
will  scatter  the  grain  on  the  ground.  And  he 
won't  lift  a  finger  to  it;  every  day  is  Sunday  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  59 

him;  he  leaves  the  work  to  an  old  fellow  like  me, 
whining  about  his  ankle  and  his  lameness." 

"  That's  a  big  black  lie,"  burst  out  Eugene, 
"  and  you  know  it." 

Turpin  glared  at  him  for  a  moment  in  mute  as- 
tonishment, and  then  advanced  upon  him  with  his 
stick.  "  Lie  is  it !  I'll  make  you  eat  those  words, 
by  God  I  will,"  he  cried,  and  struck  his  son  across 
the  face  with  his  hand.  For  a  moment  it  seemed 
as  if  he  were  going  to  follow  up  the  blow  with 
another  from  his  stick,  but  he  changed  his  mind, 
probably  Kate's  presence  deterred  him  from  using 
further  violence,  and  lowering  his  stick  he  turned 
to  her  again. 

"  Isn't  it  a  hard  case  surely?  My  two  fine  sons 
to  be  gone  from  me  and  I  to  be  left  with  an  idler 
and  a  weakling  to  work  for  me  in  my  age. 
'Twould  put  the  light  in  your  eyes,  Miss  Carmody 
—  or  would  I  say  Kate, —  to  see  Steve  plough  up  a 
field,  there  was  no  one  to  touch  him  at  ploughing. 
And  as  for  Michael  no  one  had  a  quicker  hand  at 
reaping,  and  indeed  he  could  cut  a  straight  furrow 
with  the  best  of  them.  They'd  have  made  fine 
farmers  if  God  had  spared  them.  But  isn't  it 
enough  to  make  any  man  hard  and  bitter,  he  to  be 
counting  on  two  stout  firm  poles  to  support  his 
house  and  to  be  left  with  a  rotten  old  bit  of  timber 
the  like  of  that.  Maybe  you  don't  know  the  trick 
Eugene  played  on  me,  Miss  Carmody.  He  lamed 
himself  at  hurling,  by  the  way  to  have  an  excuse 
for  doing  no  work,  by  the  way  to  skulk  and  laze 
and  rest  himself  when  it  pleased  him." 

During  all  this  while  Eugene  had  remained  si- 


60  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

lent  now  and  then  wiping  blood  from  his  cheek. 
Kate  had  made  signs  to  him,  but  he  would  not 
take  any  notice  of  them,  and  just  as  the  old  man 
paused  for  breath  she  drew  near  to  him  and 
whispered  in  his  ear:  "  Can't  you  speak?  For 
God's  sake  stand  up  to  him  now.  Put  the  lie  down 
his  throat." 

He  lifted  his  head,  and  his  face  was  pale  and 
drawn,  his  brows  heavy  as  his  gaze  met  hers.  She 
turned  away,  pained  beyond  measure  by  its  misery 
and  shame. 

"  Father,  you're  not  telling  the  truth,"  he  said; 
"  it's  not  fair  to  go  spreading  tales  about  me.  I 
know  I'm  not  the  equal  of  Michael  or  Steve;  but 
I  do  my  big  best  and  what  more  can  you  expect 
from  any  man  ?  " 

"Not  the  truth  —  spreading  tales!"  roared 
John  Turpin.  "  Every  bit  of  it's  true  and  more 
besides.  By  God,  I'll  make  you  sorry  for  contra- 
dicting me.  I'll  even  you  down  I  will.  Listen  to 
me  now.  If  you  say  one  word  more  in  contradic- 
tion you'll  get  no  share  nor  lot  in  Coomacarn. 
'Twill  go  to  Eily;  'twill  be  in  better  hands  than 
with  one  that's  only  a  whimpering  cur,  a  disgrace 
to  my  name,  a  worthless  blackguard." 

The  old  man  continued  to  rage  and  insult  his 
son,  who  stood  before  him,  his  back  turned  to 
Kate,  quite  bereft  of  speech.  She  hung  about  for 
a  few  minutes  longer  hoping  against  hope  that  he 
would  break  silence,  either  defend  himself  or  in 
a  few  plain  words  tell  his  father  he  would  not 
stand  his  abuse  and  ill-treatment  and  intended  to 
leave  him.  But  her  waiting  was  in  vain.  There 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  61 

was  no  reply  when  the  old  man  screamed :  "  You 
were  the  one  that  was  lying.  'Twas  truth  I  was 
saying.  Deny  it  now  if  you  dare." 

Eugene  hung  his  head  in  silence.  Further 
abuse  followed.  Kate  turned  away  walking 
quickly  down  the  field.  And  she  sought  the  dark- 
ness of  the  fir  trees  of  Kilcool  as  she  would  a 
covering  to  hide  her  shame. 


CHAPTER  V 

IN  witnessing  Eugene's  humiliation  Kate  had  felt 
herself  degraded.  The  sensation  was  new  to  her. 
It  was  as  if  she  had  touched  some  unclean  thing, 
and  had  herself  been  tainted,  befouled,  by  coming 
in  contact  with  it.  There  was  only  one  way  by 
which  she  could  remove  the  soil.  She  must  leave 
Droumavalla  at  once.  She  had  never  allowed 
herself  to  be  tyrannised  over  by  any  employer 
however  large  the  bribe;  and  actually  to  be  so 
servile  as  to  listen  in  silence  to  the  misstatements 
of  the  tyrant  was  in  her  opinion  an  incredible  base- 
ness. And  she  loved  this  man  who  had  the  soul 
of  a  slave,  loved,  at  any  rate,  that  part  of  him 
that  was  Michael  and  Steve.  She  had  schooled 
herself  into  believing  he  was  their  perfect  re- 
flection, that  she  had  found  them  in  him.  The 
deception  was  a  cruel  one.  A  little  mist  had 
passed  across  the  glass,  and  when  it  was  clear 
again  the  image  of  the  two  brothers  was  gone, 
and  in  its  place  was  a  misshapen  furtive  creature 
that  horrified  her. 

Kate's  mind,  her  sense  of  what  was  noble  and 
fine,  of  what  was  contemptible  and  unworthy,  had 
always  ruled.  At  this  crisis  it  asserted  its  com- 
plete sovereignty.  There  had  been  a  struggle,  a 
miserable  few  hours  of  questioning,  when  her  love 
had  almost  gained  the  upper  hand,  when  she  had 
weakly  assured  herself  that  she  could  change  him 

62 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  63 

in  time,  that  if  she  was  always  with  him  she  could 
bring  him  round  to  her  way  of  thinking.  But  it 
was  only  possible  for  her  to  succeed  through  his 
weakness,  and  with  the  recognition  of  this  fact  she 
realised  that  she  might  as  well  take  up  a  spade 
and  try 'and  cut  the  rock  in  two  as  try  to  sever  from 
Eugene's  nature  that  which  was  an  integral  part 
of  it  He  must  understand  the  reasons  for  her  go- 
ing. However  painful  it  might  be,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  her  to  see  him  again.  She  determined  to 
visit  Coomacarn  as  she  had  promised.  Accord- 
ingly, on  the  morning  following  the  scene  she  had 
witnessed  between  Eugene  and  his  father,  in  spite 
of  complaints  and  entreaties  from  Denis,  she 
packed  her  things,  making  all  arrangements  for 
her  departure  the  next  day,  and  then  when  the 
heat  of  the  afternoon  was  passed  she  set  out  on 
foot  for  Coomacarn. 

It  was  a  fresh,  sweet  day  with  a  west  wind 
blowing  and  bright  clouds  flitting  rapidly  across 
the  sky;  the  trees  of  Kilcool  Wood  were  rustling 
and  murmuring  in  the  breeze.  Though  it  was 
late  summer  everywhere  there  was  a  feeling  of 
movement,  an  exuberance  of  life  —  even  the  thick 
heather  and  bracken  beyond  the  wood  stirred 
as  the  wind  breathed  over  them.  And  in  spite 
of  her  trouble  of  mind  a  little  of  the  exultation 
of  the  day  passed  into  Kate's  being  as  she  crested 
the  brow  of  the  hill  above  Coomacarn  and  gazed 
down  at  the  smiling  land  below  her.  There  was 
the  river  tumbling  between  the  rocks,  there  was 
the  farmhouse  in  a  little  hollow,  well-tilled  fields 
stretching  down  the  slope  away  from  it,  fields 


64  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

edged  by  the  dark  stain  of  the  red  bog.  In  the 
distance  was  a  wide  expanse  of  open  sea,  not  the 
sail  of  a  fishing  vessel,  not  the  funnel  of  a  steamer 
upon  it,  the  slatey-green  flecked  here  and  there  by 
white,  where  the  breeze  whipped  the  waves  into 
a  stir. 

Kate,  having  surveyed  the  familiar  landscape, 
proceeded  to  make  her  way  over  the  hill.  She 
was  taking  >a  short-cut  through  the  fields  and  had 
several  big  banks  to  climb;  on  the  top  of  one  of 
them  she  paused,  finding  herself  confronted  by  a 
large  corn  field.  The  crop  was  a  rich  one,  but 
none  of  it  was  laid  though  there  had  been  a  severe 
fall  of  rain  the  day  before.  The  heavy  ears  of 
wheat  were  bowing  and  quivering  before  that 
glad  breath  from  the  west,  and  looking  at  them 
Kate  envied  their  possessor.  What  pleasure  it 
would  give  her  to  own  them,  and  to  help  to 
reap  them,  to  glean  through  the  stubble,  and  later 
on  to  join  in  the  threshing,  triumphantly  saving 
the  precious  grain.  After  a  few  minutes'  con- 
templation her  ears  caught  the  low  swish,  swish 
of  the  scythe,  and  quickly  making  her  way  along 
the  ditch  she  came  upon  the  man  who  wielded 
it.  She  watched  the  wide  swing  of  his  arms  and 
body,  the  rhythmic  rising  and  bending  of  his  broad 
back,  and  sighed  a  little  regretfully  to  herself. 
Then  she  advanced  into  the  open  calling  to  him : 

"  Eugene,  Eugene." 

"  Ah,  Kate,  is  that  yourself?  I  never  thought 
to  see  you.  It's  real  glad  I  am  you've  come," 
he  said,  as  he  advanced  towards  her.  He  did  not 
seem  ashamed  to  meet  her  gaze,  and  quite  unac- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  65 

countably  her  eyes  dropped  before  his.  Like  a 
flash  the  knowledge  passed  through  her  mind  that 
she  could  not  resist  this  man  if  he  chose  to  ask 
anything  of  her  while  he  stood  there  in  his  own 
corn  field,  beside  the  waving  grain.  There  was 
a  bit  of  Michael  and  of  Steve  in  his  face;  the 
cowering  Eugene  was  gone;  he  looked  the  master 
at  that  moment,  with  his  frank  fearless  manner, 
the  glow  of  the  fields  upon  him. 

"  Come  on  out  of  this,"  she  muttered.  "  I've 
things  to  say  to  you."  Then,  aware  of  the  un- 
gracefulness  of  her  speech,  she  added:  "  That's 
fine  wheat,  Eugene.  It's  a  wonder  it  isn't  laid." 

"  Ah,  no  wonder  at  all;  the  straw  is  light  this 
year,  it's  not  apt  to  be  laid,"  he  replied,  and  turned 
to  the  boy  who  was  helping  him.  "  Let  you  finish 
the  binding,"  he  commanded;  "  then  drive  in  the 
cows  and  milk  them.  I'll  be  back  to  this  in  a 
while." 

She  liked  to  hear  him  give  orders  and  to  see, 
even  if  it  was  only  a  boy,  some  one,  at  any  rate, 
obeying  his  commands :  better  still,  she  liked  to 
feel  him  walking  beside  her  through  his  fields;  he 
owned  all:  these  fat  cattle,  this  streak  of  tilled 
land,  that  fine  rick  of  hay,  the  outhouses,  the  grey 
house,  and  she  herself  was  what  was  needed  to 
complete  that  ownership.  The  fancy  was  a  fool- 
ish one;  she  tried  to  correct  the  folly  and  fought 
it  down  though  it  was  all  her  desire,  though  she 
would  have  given  years  of  life  to  be  able  to  cherish 
it  and  believe  in  it  for  one  hour. 

They  strolled  towards  the  house  through  the 
fields,  and  Eugene,  apparently  deceived  by  her 


66  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

manner  and  believing  the  scene  of  the  night  before 
had  made  no  difference  between  them,  talked  pleas- 
antly and  easily  of  the  work  and  of  the  farm. 
He  told  her  the  history  of  its  soil,  the  sowing  and 
reaping  of  crops,  the  fortunes  of  weather  and 
harvest  during  the  two  preceding  years.  He 
went  further,  dwelling  on  its  possibilities  in  the 
future,  telling  her  what  he  would  do  with  it  once 
it  was  in  his  possession.  It  wouldn't  be  like  other 
farms;  he  would  never  rest  content.  Not  alone 
would  he  be  always  improving  the  fields  and  the 
cattle,  he  would  have  a  little  garden  and  plant 
apple  trees  and  gooseberry  bushes  in  it.  The  gar- 
den was  necessary  for  the  bees  with  which  it  must 
be  stocked.  He  had  had  great  talks  with  the 
teacher  from  the  Department  about  that.  Then 
by  some  means  or  other,  as  yet  unknown  to  him- 
self, he  had  decided  to  obtain  all  the  up-to-date 
machines  so  that  he  would  be  no  longer  a  slave  to 
the  scythe  and  the  rusty  old  plough.  He  also  in- 
tended to  enlarge  the  dairy  and  the  outhouses. 
Oh,  it  would  take  time,  but  it  would  be  well  worth 
the  doing. 

She  was  very  happy  listening  to  him,  for  she 
loved  to  hear  him  talk  about  the  farm  though 
many  of  his  plans  seemed  to  her  more  practical 
mind  impossible  of  realisation.  But  when  he 
ceased  speaking  she  became  painfully  conscious  of 
the  object  of  her  visit  and  she  could  not  pick  up 
the  thread  of  his  conversation,  so  they  walked  for- 
ward for  a  little  while  in  silence. 

Beside  a  boulder,  on  the  edge  of  the  little  river, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  67 

he  paused,  and  turning  to  her  said  gravely: 
"  There's  something  on  your  mind.  I  can  see  that 
plainly." 

She  shook  her  head;  now  that  the  opportunity 
for  speech  had  come  she  could  not  bring  herself 
to  take  advantage  of  it. 

"  Ah,  where's  the  use  in  hiding  it?  Can't  you 
say  it  out  to  me  straight  and  honest  ?  "  he  continued. 

"  Is  it  the  truth  you're  wanting?  "  she  inquired. 
"  'Twill  anger  you  greatly." 

"What  matter?  'Tis  the  truth  I  want  and 
nothing  else." 

"  I  was  ashamed  of  you  last  night,  Eugene,"  she 
replied,  looking  suddenly  up  at  him.  "  I  was 
ashamed  of  your  cowardly  cringing.  You  gave  in 
to  your  father,  you  let  him  abuse  you;  when  he 
called  you  a  liar  you  were  silent.  I  can't  let  a 
coward  and  a  weakling  be  a  friend  of  mine." 

"Coward  and  weakling!  You'll  take  back 
those  words,"  he  cried  hotly;  "  by  God  you  will. 
I'll  let  no  man  or  woman  living  use  those  words  to 
me." 

She  would  have  answered  him  in  terms  of  equal 
anger  if  she  had  not  perceived  the  anguish  he  tried 
in  vain  to  hide.  In  spite  of  what  he  said  she 
believed  he  had  felt  the  truth  of  those  words;  they 
had  burnt  into  him  like  fire.  And  repenting  at  the 
sight  of  his  suffering  she  hastened  to  speak  again: 

"  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  saying.  I  was 
angered.  I'll  take  every  one  of  them  back,  Eu- 
gene. I  didn't  mean  them  —  not  the  least  in  the 
world." 


68  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

He  drew  a  little  nearer,  looking  down  at  her, 
and  the  sadness  in  his  voice  and  in  his  eyes  chilled 
her  as  he  replied: 

"  Ah,  Kate,  I  was  thinking  all  the  time  you 
were  understanding  me,  but  you  don't  understand 
one  bit.  You  don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  great 
love  for  the  land.  Maybe  you're  saying  to  your- 
self this  very  minute  I'm  play-acting  —  only  jok- 
ing or  lying  to  get  round  you.  But,  believe  me, 
I've  my  heart  set  on  Coomacarn.  I  want  every 
stone  of  it,  every  foot  of  ground.  I  want  to  live 
and  die  here,  and  I'll  sweat  and  slave  and  be  kicked 
and  cursed  for  it  if  only  I  can  get  it  at  the  end  of 
all." 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  him  again.  The  passion 
and  the  beauty  of  the  man  took  her  by  surprise, 
almost  by  storm.  She  felt  drawn  to  him  in  spite 
of  herself;  something  within  her  told  her  this  was 
the  true  farmer,  and  yet  she  could  not  permit  her- 
self to  sympathise.  He  was  doing  himself  a 
wrong  in  paying  for  it  with  the  price  of  his  in- 
dependence, with  the  price  of  his  self-respect  and 
his  manhood.  It  was  weakness,  not  love,  that 
made  him  give  in  and  allow  himself  to  be  mas- 
tered. As  these  thoughts  passed  through  her 
mind  she  became  conscious  that  he  was  waiting  for 
a  reply,  and  to  gain  time  she  said  vaguely: 

'You  have  no  liking  for  your  father,  then? 
It's  from  no  fear  nor  care  for  him  you  let  him 
abuse  you." 

"  I  have  no  love  for  him,  but  I  care  greatly  for 
herself.  I'd  do  anything  in  the  wide  world  for 
her.  And  it's  because  she  doesn't  value  me 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  69 

like  the  old  man  as  so  much  pounds  and  pence." 

"  Well,  and  aren't  you  setting  him  the  example 
valuing  yourself  at  so  many  acres  of  land?  " 

"  I  am,"  he  replied,  "  and  I'm  not  ashamed  of 
it  It's  the  land  makes  the  man." 

She  determined  to  appeal  to  him  once  more  and 
addressed  him  in  a  way  that  she  thought  would 
rouse  his  pride : 

"  Denis  always  says,  '  Meet  a  bully  with  his  own 
weapons;  bully  him  back.'  Face  up  your  father 
and  you'll  soon  quell  him  down.  Ah,  Eugene,  I 
don't  like  to  see  you  a  weak  crawling  creature; 
I've  a  great  wish  to  see  you  a  whole  man." 

"  And  lose  the  farm  on  the  head  of  it.  You 
say  I'm  no  man.  Indeed  in  the  years  to  come  I'd 
be  a  poor  sort  of  man,  I  wouldn't  count  as  one  at 
all  if  I  hadn't  this  streak  of  earth  behind  me. 
Sure  I'd  be  nobody  if  I  was  a  labourer.  What 
would  be  the  good  of  my  knowledge  of  stock  and 
crops  and  weather?  Every  farmer  thinks  he 
knows  best.  I'd  have  to  do  as  I  was  told.  In 
a  town  I'd  be  worse  than  nobody.  I'd  feel  all 
astray.  The  streets  put  fear  in  my  heart.  I 
couldn't  live  in  them;  they'd  choke  me.  But  I 
can  tell  you,  Kate,  if  I'd  Coomacarn  at  my  back 
I'd  feel  like  a  king.  Ah,  there's  little  use  in 
talking.  You  don't  know  what  I'm  meaning,  what 
it  is  to  be  hungering  for  land,  to  have  it  there  all 
about  you,  to  be  working  in  it  month  after  month, 
watching  it  the  winter,  spring,  and  summer  through 
and  always  to  have  the  dread  of  losing  it." 

"  Eugene,  you're  wronging  me,"  she  cried. 
"What  was  it  but  for  that  I  came  back  home? 


70  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

I  got  tired  to  death  of  the  streets.  I'd  a  strong 
wish  for  the  open  country  and  the  farm."  He 
was  the  master  again  and  could  dictate  to  her  what 
pleased  him :  she  was  ready  to  submit.  These  last 
words  of  his  had,  as  it  were,  set  his  seal  upon  her 
forehead. 

He  realised  that  there  was  a  change  in  her,  that 
she  was  putting  the  thought  of  his  weakness  be- 
hind her,  and  that  at  a  sign  from  him  she  might 
turn  and  come  to  meet  him.  But  she  had  used 
very  bitter  words;  she  had  called  him  a  liar  and 
a  coward  and  he  hesitated,  afraid  to  leap  at  the 
opportunity  that  offered  itself.  It  seemed  wiser 
to  wait  a  little  longer;  the  whole  evening  was  be- 
fore them.  So  he  allowed  the  precious  moment 
to  pass. 

They  were  standing  a  little  below  the  house, 
and  looking  up  at  it  they  perceived  the  tall  figure 
of  a  woman  in  a  long  black  cloak,  the  hood  drawn 
over  her  head,  move  along  its  front.  So  noiseless 
were  her  movements  she  might  have  been  the  fig- 
ure of  a  dream. 

"Is  that  Mrs.  Turpin?"  Kate  inquired  as  she 
disappeared  into  the  house. 

"  It  is.  She's  coming  back  from  the  chapel,  I 
imagine.  She's  been  saying  prayers  for  the  two 
boys.  It's  Steve's  birthday.  That's  why  she's 
dressed  out  in  her  '  hairy  Molly.'  " 

"  I'd  like  to  have  a  talk  with  her." 

"  Come  on  in,  then.  She'll  be  glad  to  see  you. 
But  don't  say  a  word  about  the  two  boys." 

The  house  had  a  neglected  uncared-for  appear- 
ance which  Eugene  explained  as  Kate  paused  on 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  71 

the  threshold  and  turned  to  look  down  at  the  wide 
stretch  of  sea  and  wild  country  below  them. 

"  She  was  in  bed  for  weeks  last  March.  She 
was  queer  and  strange  and  wouldn't  say  a  word  or 
eat  a  bite.  Dr.  Murphy  said  'twas  a  kind  of 
stroke  she  got.  She's  not  been  able  for  much  on 
account  of  it,  and  things  have  been  a  bit  upset 
ever  since.  Mind  you  speak  loud  to  her,  Kate. 
She's  very  deaf." 

"  Indeed  I'm  sorry  to  hear  she's  been  ailing  and 
deaf  on  the  head  of  it,"  said  Kate,  adding  im- 
pulsively: "  Oh,  Eugene,  it  must  be  very  dull 
and  lonesome  for  you  in  the  house  now." 

He  flushed  with  pleasure  though  he  made  no 
allusion  to  her  remark  about  himself  in  his  reply: 

"  Ah,  the  deafness  is  no  harm,  God  help  her. 
'Tis  well  for  the  old  to  be  deaf.  They  get  child- 
like with  too  much  trouble  and  'tis  time  God  shut 
the  sound  from  them." 

Kate,  scarcely  heeding  his  words,  turned  from 
the  house  door  with  a  happy  sigh;  that  view  of 
land  and  water  had  been  often  in  her  mind  dur- 
ing her  life  away.  She  was  very  glad  to  be  back 
with  it  again  and  to  feel  that  she  had  left  the  big 
cities  with  their  monstrous  buildings  for  good 
and  all. 

Eugene  led  the  way  into  the  house,  and  they 
entered  a  roomy  kitchen  which  was  bare  but  clean. 
Its  principal  features  were  a  long  oak  dresser  and 
a  large  picture  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Child  hanging 
above  the  open  hearth.  Kate  took  in  no  details, 
for  her  eyes  fell  directly  on  the  old  woman,  who 
was  still  in  her  black  cloak,  the  hood  still  drawn 


72  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

over  her  head.  She  was  sitting  in  a  low  chair  by 
the  window  sighing  every  now  and  then  and  rock- 
ing herself  to  and  fro.  The  two  uniforms,  the 
green  and  the  khaki,  were  on  her  lap,  and  she  was 
fingering  the  buttons,  feeling  the  cloth  —  tenderly 
patting  it  down.  Before  her  on  a  stool  were  a 
boy's  cap,  a  mug  and  a  broken  sugar  bowl.  As 
they  watched  her  she  took  the  cap  in  her  hand  and 
began  to  mutter  to  herself: 

"  Little  Steve,  my  little  Steve,  I  mind  the  time 
you'd  run  to  meet  me  in  your  weeshy  red  cap  and 
your  little  Sunday  suit  —  and  Michael  never  failed 
to  be  with  you.  There  was  no  differ  between  you, 
the  same  clothes,  the  same  bold  ways,  the  same  in 
everything.  .  .  .  Oh,  the  pair  of  you  were  very 
arch.  It's  many  a  'fine  scolding  I  gave  you,  my 
lovely  boys."  She  paused  and  shook  her  head, 
sighing  to  herself.  Then,  putting  the  cap  back 
on  the  stool,  she  took  up  the  mug,  turning  it  over 
in  her  hands,  examining  it  tenderly  and  beginning 
her  mutter  again:  "  'Twas  Saturday  I  brought 
it  to  you,  Mikeen  —  all  the  ways  from  Cork  it 
came.  Ah,  weren't  you  the  proud  boy  with  a  mug 
of  your  own.  After  that  you'd  never  drink  from 
a  cup  and  you'd  cry  if  the  little  mug  wasn't  planted 
there  before  you  on  the  table.  And  I  mind  the 
long  sups  you'd  draw  from  it.  Oh,  you  were  a 
wholesome  child,  God  bless  you,  ating  never  failed 
you."  Her  voice  trailed  away  into  silence,  and 
then  she  suddenly  gave  a  chuckle  like  the  crow  of 
a  child  as  she  stretched  out  a  thin  hand  to  the 
broken  sugar  bowl  and  clasped  it  to  her  breast 
exclaiming:  "  Ah,  ha,  it's  great  thieves  you  were, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  73 

to  be  sure.  'Twas  the  day  I  went  to  Middleton 
Fair  you  broke  this  on  me.  I'd  filled  it  with 
sugar  fresh  from  Walsh's  and  my  back  wasn't 
turned  a  minute  when  the  two  of  ye  were  up  on 
the  table  the  like  of  a  pair  of  kittens  picking  at  it. 
It's  the  quare  start  I  gave  ye,  and  my  poor  Steve 
knocked  -the  bit  out  of  it  with  his  elbow  in  his 
haste  to  escape  from  under  my  hand.  God  for- 
give me,  I  was  flaming  —  in  the  height  of 
rage !  And  I  wouldn't  give  Steve  the  bull's-eyes 
or  Michael  the  peggy's  leg  I  was  after  bringing 
home  I  was  that  mad.  Oh,  ye  thought  me  a  great 
bugaboo  that  time,  didn't  ye  now?  " 

A  feeling  of  loneliness  took  possession  of  Kate 
at  the  sight  of  that  sinister  black  figure  and  the 
bony  clawlike  hand.  She  wanted  to  step  forward 
and  pull  back  the  hood  from  the  old  face,  and, 
above  all,  she  wanted  to  put.an  end  to  the  sighing, 
the  hoarse  chuckles  and  the  tremulous  muttering. 
It  seemed  terrible  to  her  that  Eugene,  who  was 
still  young,  his  future  all  to  make  or  unmake, 
should  have  to  witness  this  brooding  over  the  dead 
years,  should  be  cut  off  from  his  kind,  his  life  with- 
ered up  by  a  bullying  complaining  father  and  a 
mother  whose  heart  and  mind  were  in  the  grave. 
To  converse  with  them,  to  seek  their  company  like 
that  would  surely  do  no  good  to  the  dead,  it  might 
draw  them  back  from  their  new  journeying;  at  any 
rate  it  was  a  crime  in  the  face  of  the  living. 

"  She  won't  look  at  their  photographs,"  whis- 
pered Eugene;  "she  doesn't  seem  to  care  about 
them  or  maybe  they  mean  nothing.  They're  fine 
young  men  to  her  no  more  —  only  little  children. 


74  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

It's  as  if  you'd  taken  a  jack-knife  and  cut  off  twenty 
years  of  her  life.  She  thinks  of  them  now  as  the 
height  of  that  table  or  as  babies  in  her  arms." 

"  Indeed  I'm  grieved  to  hear  it,"  returned  Kate. 
"  Oh,  it's  terrible  altogether." 

"  It's  better  that  way  —  far  better  than  to  have 
her  crying  and  lamenting  over  their  bitter  quarrel. 
She  couldn't  have  borne  it  long;  she'd  have  got 
crazed  with  grief.  Now  she  appears  contented 
like,  happy  in  herself.  She'll  play  with  them  — 
talk  and  laugh  and  whisper  and  sigh  like  that 
every  evening  for  hours  and  hours.  Many  a 
time  I've  heard  her  give  them  a  fine  scold,  and 
then  pet  and  coax  them  or  croon  an  old  song  that 
would  put  them  to  sleep.  It's  a  kind  of  a  game 
she  plays  the  while  she  holds  and  handles  old  bits 
that  belonged  to  them  and  they  children." 

"  It's  a  queer  way  to  comfort  herself,"  said 
Kate  slowly;  "  maybe  she  does  it  by  the  way  to 
put  the  thought  of  their  quarrel  out  of  her  mind." 

"  That's  right,"  Eugene  replied;  "  that's  right. 
Leastways  at  the  start  it  was  so,  but  now  it's  real 
earnest.  I'm  thinking  she  sees  the  little  childher 
there  before  her.  Howsomever,  I'd  best  rouse 
her  and  let  her  know  you're  here." 

Kate  would  have  liked  to  check  him  in  his 
purpose.  She  was  afraid  of  what  she  might  see  if 
the  hood  was  drawn  back,  and  that  which  was 
hidden  by  it  revealed.  The  dark  figure,  motion- 
less now,  inspired  her  with  a  dread  that  comes 
sometimes  to  the  simple  mind  when  it  cannot  un- 
derstand, when  the  mystery  of  existence  presses 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  75 

close  upon  it,  hiding  all  like  mist  drifting  thickly 
across  the  hills. 

"  Mother,  Mother,  here's  a  friend  to  see  you 
—  Kate  Carmody  —  back  from  the  States," 
shouted  Eugene,  bending  over  her,  bringing  his 
mouth  close  up  to  her  ear  so  that  she  could  not 
fail  to  hear  him.  His  words  did  not  rouse  her, 
however,  and  he  had  to  repeat  himself.  Then, 
with  a  sigh,  Mrs.  Turpin  let  her  hood  drop  back, 
and,  rising,  slowly  turned  her  face  to  Kate. 

It  was  a  whitey  yellow,  and  so  thin  and  worn 
it  scarcely  seemed  possible  its  fine  delicacy  could 
contain  the  breath  of  life.  The  features  resem- 
bled those  of  her  sons,  and  the  gentle  expression  of 
her  eyes  as  she  lifted  them  up  to  Kate  reminded  the 
latter  of  Eugene. 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Kate.  You're  very  wel- 
come," she  said  in  the  low  voice  in  which  deaf 
people  speak  probably  because  they  cannot  meas- 
ure sound. 

"  It's  a  good  while  since  I  saw  you.  Tell  me, 
how  are  you  keeping,  ma'am?"  inquired  Kate. 
She  had  to  repeat  herself  again  and  again,  and 
some  little  time  passed  before  the  words  seemed 
to  penetrate  the  old  woman's  understanding. 

"  I'm  very  slow,"  she  said  pathetically;  "  the 
deafness  is  a  great  hardship.  Maybe  Eugene  told 
you  the  strange  thing  that  happened  me?" 

"  What  was  it,  ma'am?  "  shouted  Kate.  "  Tell 
me  what  occurred." 

"  It  was  very  odd;  I  never  knew  the  like  be- 
fore. I  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor 


76  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  a  great  flash  went  up  through  my  feet  and 
my  body  and  out  through  the  crown  of  my  head. 
There  was  a  wind  roaring  and  beating  ag'in  the 
walls,  and  I  imagined  the  greatest  devil  the  world 
has  ever  knowed  was  waiting  outside  for  me. 
Wasn't  that  a  strange  thing  now?" 

"  Very  strange,"  replied  Kate,  and  as  she  spoke 
the  old  woman  fixed  her  eyes  upon  her  intently. 
There  was  a  minute's  silence  while  her  eyeballs 
seemed  almost  to  strain  themselves  out  of  their 
sockets,  then  suddenly,  as  the  other  drew  back 
involuntarily,  she  screamed  out: 

"  You're  the  girl  Michael  and  Steve  were  after. 
You're  the  girl  .  .  .  God  forgive  me,  I  was  for- 
getting .  .  .  there  was  a  quarrel  and  bitter  words 
and  .  .  .  Oh,  Eugene,  what's  come  over  me? 
Oh  —  oh!  "  She  began  moaning  to  herself,  now 
and  then  pointing  a  shrivelled  finger  at  Kate  and 
breaking  out  into  fresh  cries.  With  each  minute 
that  passed  the  latter  seemed  to  excite  her  more 
and  more,  and  Eugene,  cut  off  from  her  by  her 
deafness,  was  unable  to  comfort  her  or  soothe  her. 
At  length,  rendered  desperate  by  the  childish  wail- 
ing, he  went  over  to  the  stool  and  taking  up 
the  uniform  and  the  other  treasures  proceeded  to 
the  door.  Instantly  his  mother  followed  him, 
calling  to  him  to  leave  them  down  and  give  them 
up  to  her,  which  he  refused  to  do,  and  they  dis- 
appeared round  the  bend  of  the  passage  together. 

Kate  felt  a  little  dazed  and  distressed  at  this 
sudden  turmoil,  and  she  shivered  as  silence  settled 
upon  the  kitchen  and  she  found  herself  alone. 
Her  first  impulse  was  to  shake  off  the  impression 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  77 

of  the  scene  that  had  just  been  enacted,  to  divert 
her  mind  into  other  channels  by  looking  about  her 
and  examining  the  furniture  and  adornments  of 
the  room.  Her  eyes  had  not  travelled  far  when 
they  lit  upon  a  photograph  of  Steve  that  was 
hanging  in  a  prominent  position  on  the  wall.  It 
had  evidently  been  taken  fairly  recently,  for  he 
was  wearing  the  uniform  of  the  Irish  volunteers, 
and  they  had  been  formed  some  time  after  Kate 
had  left  for  America.  She  lifted  it  off  the  wall, 
placing  it  on  the  table  and  gazing  at  it  for  a  while. 
The  likeness  was  a  faithful  one;  this  was  the  Steve 
she  had  known;  he  had  not  altered  in  any  particu- 
lar, and  looked  very  handsome  in  his  uniform. 

She  heard  a  step  in  the  passage  and  hung  the 
photograph  back  in  its  place,  then,  searching  about 
for  Michael's  likeness,  perceived  an  empty  nail 
and  a  mark  on  the  wall  close  by  where  a  photo- 
graph must  have  hung;  the  other  walls  were  bare; 
it  was  queer  indeed  that  no  place  had  been  found 
for  Michael. 

Eugene  entered  the  room,  and  in  answer  to  an 
inquiry  of  hers  for  Mrs.  Turpin,  replied:  "  She's 
better  now.  I  soothered  her  down,  and  she's  like 
a  child  again  playing  with  them  old  bits." 

"  It's  a  strange  way  to  live,  Eugene,"  said 
Kate  slowly. 

"  You  mustn't  mind  her,"  he  returned  a  little 
anxiously.  "  'Twas  the  smother  of  trouble  gave 
her  the  stroke  and  that  turned  her  brain  a  bit,  I'm 
thinking.  But  it's  only  now  and  again  her  mind 
goes  back  and  she  tries  to  make  believe  she's  the 
young  woman  of  thirty  years  ago.  The  sight 


78  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

of  you  set  her  thinking  of  the  bad  times  again." 

"  She  was  speaking  of  their  quarrel.  Was  it 
very  bad,  Eugene?  " 

"  So  bad  they  came  to  blows  one  time  in  this 
very  room.  Michael  got  Steve  by  the  throat, 
and  near  throttled  the  life  out  of  him.  Oh,  we 
had  work  I  can  tell  you  to  separate  them.  And 
Michael  was  all  bloody  and  Steve  as  white  as  a 
sheet  by  the  time  we  had  them  drawn  apart.  The 
sight  of  them  nearly  drove  mother  out  of  her 
wits;  she  could  never  forget  that  day." 

"And  the  start  of  it?" 

"  They  had  words.  Michael  said  he  was  fight- 
ing for  Ireland  by  fighting  for  the  British  in 
France.  '  That's  a  lie,  you're  a  traitor  to  Ire- 
land,' says  Steve.  '  I'm  the  only  one  in  this  house 
fighting  for  it,  because  I'm  the  only  one  in  the 
ranks  of  Sinn  Fein  in  the  army  of  the  republic.' 
That  was  two  months  before  the  rising  in  Dublin. 
Oh,  they  had  nothing  but  hard  and  bitter  curses 
for  one  another  those  ten  days  of  Michael's  leave. 
And  indeed  we  were  glad  when  he  went  back  to 
his  regiment.  For  as  sure  as  you're  standing 
there  the  one  would  have  had  the  other  murdered 
if  they'd  lived  another  week  together  in  the  house." 

"  And  there  was  never,  a  bad  word  between 
them  when  I  was  at  home,"  exclaimed  Kate. 

"  Never  a  bad  word,"  echoed  Eugene.  "  Once 
in  a  while  they  went  for  me,  but  the  two  of  them 
might  have  been  as  one  so  peaceable  were  they 
and  they  growing  up  —  coming  into  the  age  of 
man." 

"O  God,  forgive  them,"  she  cried,  trembling; 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  79 

"  God  forgive  them,  what  rest  can  they  have  and 
they  divided?  " 

She  made  an  effort  to  control  herself,  showing 
no  further  sign  of  emotion,  and  for  a  while  silence 
reigned  in  the  kitchen.  Eugene  eyed  her  doubt- 
fully as  she  stood  in  front  of  the  photograph  of 
Steve,  her  back  turned  to  him.  At  length  he  went 
over  to  her,  saying:  "  'Twill  do  you  no  good 
thinking  about  it,  Kate.  What  can't  be  cured 
must  be  endured  as  they  say.  You'd  best  try  and 
forget  it.  Come  now,  sit  down  and  take  your 
ease,  and  I'll  be  making  a  cup  of  tea  for  our- 
selves." 

"  Eugene,"  she  said,  turning  round  suddenly  as 
if  she  had  not  heard  him,  "  where  is  Michael's 
photograph?  " 

"  It's  here  in  the  drawer,"  he  replied,  and  going 
over  to  the  dresser  took  out  a  broken  frame  from 
under  some  bits  of  glass  and  handed  it  to  her.  It 
contained  the  photograph  of  a  soldier  in  khaki, 
which  was  bent  and  twisted,  but  not  defaced. 
Kate  looked  at  the  likeness  for  a  minute  or  two, 
finally  remarking:  "  Isn't  it  a  shame  to  have  it 
the  like  of  this?  You've  a  right  to  buy  a  new 
frame  for  it,  and  hang  it  on  the  wall  beside  Steve." 

"  When  Michael  posted  it  to  mother,"  he  re- 
plied, "  she  hung  it  up  on  that  nail  —  as  you're 
wishing  to  have  it.  And  she  was  very  happy  that 
day  with  her  two  sons  looking  down  on  her. 
Steve  was  in  Cork,  and  didn't  see  it  till  the  late 
evening.  But  as  soon  as  he  laid  eyes  on  it  he 
picked  it  off  the  nail  and  threw  it  on  the  floor, 
and  says  he,  '  No  man  in  that  uniform  will  ever 


80 

hang  upon  a  wall  of  this  house.  It's  disgrace 
enough  that  a  child  of  yours  should  be  wearing  it.' 
She  begged  and  prayed  him  not  to  be  so  hard  on 
his  own  brother,  but  he  wouldn't  give  in  to  her. 
Says  he,  '  Michael  tore  up  the  flag  of  Sinn  Fein 
the  last  time  he  was  home.  I'll  pay  him  back  in 
his  own  coin  for  that.'  So  the  photograph  was 
put  away  in  the  drawer." 

"  That's  a  good  while  back,"  persisted  Kate. 
"  By  rights  it  should  be  hanging  on  the  wall. 
Isn't  the  one  lad  the  same  as  the  other  now?  " 

"  I  thought  to  put  it  up  there,  but  father 
wouldn't  have  it  so." 

"And  for  why?"  she  inquired. 

"  Because  there  are  Sinn  Feiners  about  here. 
And  he's  afraid  he'd  be  boycotted,  his  cattle  drove 
off  him  or  the  land  ploughed  up,  if  he'd  the  photo- 
graph of  a  British  soldier  hanging  on  the  wall  of 
his  house.  The  farm  is  always  in  his  mind." 

"  Is  it  more  to  him  than  his  own  son?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  is.  But  the  feeling  runs 
very  high  through  the  country,  and  maybe  — " 

"  It's  not  right,  Eugene,  it's  not  right,"  cried 
Kate;  "what  does  it  matter  if  they  fought  for 
Sinn  Fein  or  the  British?  What  does  it  matter 
which  way  they  died?  Sure  they  were  two  good 
men,  and  they  should  have  equal  shares  in  their 
home.  Aren't  they  equal  before  their  God 
now?" 

"  I  know  —  I  know,"  he  replied  uneasily.  "  I 
did  my  best.  The  old  man  wouldn't  give  into  it 
at  all." 

11  And  which  are  you  for  —  Michael  or  Steve  ?  " 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  81 

she  asked,  eyeing  him  curiously.  "  You  never 
yet  told  me." 

"  I  couldn't  fight  because  of  my  leg;  but  I 
didn't  take  any  one's  part,"  he  returned.  "  I  was 
always  trying  to  get  them  to  make  it  up  between 
them.  I  don't  know  why  that  kind  of  thing  makes 
men  of  the  one  blood  and  the  one  nation  half  mad. 
Maybe  it's  because  I've  only  understanding  for  the 
farm  and  what's  in  it." 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  took  no  sides  it's  for  you 
to  make  it  equal  between  them  now,"  she  urged. 
"  Will  you  promise  me  to  put  that  picture  back 
on  the  wall,  and  keep  it  hanging  there?  Don't 
let  your  father  come  over  you  —  force  him  to 
leave  it  in  its  rightful  place." 

"  I  can't,"  he  replied  shortly;  "  I  see  no  way  to 
do  it." 

She  drew  nearer  to  him,  speaking  very  earn- 
estly: '  They're  two  sons  of  the  house,  whatever 
their  politics  may  have  been  —  two  fine  men  that 
never  disgraced  it  in  their  life  by  a  dirty  or  a  cow- 
ardly act.  Why  would  you  treat  Michael  as  if 
you  were  ashamed  of  him,  now  he's  no  way  to 
defend  himself?  Mind  you,  I'd  say  the  same  of 
Steve  if  you  refused  to  hang  his  likeness  on  the 
wall.  You're  after  telling  me  they're  the  one 
blood,  the  one  nation.  Would  you  keep  them 
divided,  and  they  dead?  Would  you  help  to  carry 
their  quarrel  beyond  the  grave?  " 

He  hung  his  head,  keeping  silence  for  several 
minutes,  his  hands  alone  showing  the  stress  of  the 
struggle  within,  as  they  convulsively  opened  and 
closed.  When  at  length  he  replied  his  voice  was 


88  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

so  hoarse,  it  was  difficult  for  her  to  catch  what  he 
was  saying. 

"  I  daren't,  Kate  —  father  would  be  raging  —  I 
daren't.  All  my  wofk  and  slaving  would  go  for 
nothing.  He'd  turn  me  off  the  farm." 

"  D'you  mean  to  tell  me  you're  afraid  to  face 
him?" 

"  I'm  afraid  for  the  farm  —  afraid  I'll  lose  it, 
I  tell  you." 

Kate's  mind  was  full  of  the  two  brothers'  quar- 
rel. Nothing  could  cure  it  now,  and  yet  she  felt 
that  this  act  of  justice  to  Michael  might  help  to 
bring  them  together,  might  perhaps  bring  peace 
to  two  fine  men  who  had  died  hating  each  other 
for  the  sake  of  the  land  they  loved. 

"  Eugene,  do  right  by  Michael,  do  right  by 
your  own  brother,"  she  implored. 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Kate.     It's  not  in  my  power." 

"  It's  in  your  power  if  you  had  a  small  spark 
of  courage  or  the  least  bit  of  pride." 

"  Father  was  angered  yesterday.  Indeed  I 
never  saw  him  so  bad  —  not  the  time  you  were 
there,  but  after  you  went  home.  He  struck  me, 
and  swore  he'd  leave  the  farm  to  Eily.  If  I 
cross  him  again  he'll  do  that  same.  The  very 
hour  I  hang  Michael's  likeness  upon  that  wall 
Coomacarn  goes  from  me  —  Coomacarn  that  I've 
laboured  and  striven  for,  year  in  and  year  out. 
Oh,  Kate,  'twould  break  my  heart." 

"  You'll  not  do  it  then  —  though  it's  Michael's 
share,  and  it  might  bring  the  two  of  them  rest. 
Sure  I  am  Steve  is  grieving  for  it  now." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  83 

"  Ah,  not  he;  there  could  be  no  making  up  that 
quarrel." 

"  Still  and  all,  it  might  make  a  difference.  Say 
you'll  hang  it  up,  Eugene  —  say  you'll  hang  it 
there." 

"  I'd  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you,  Kate, 
but  I  can't  do  that." 

She  picked  up  her  coat,  and  after  gazing  at 
the  two  likenesses  turned  to  him  saying  quietly, 
"  Then  it's  time  for  me  to  be  saying  good-bye, 
Eugene.  I'm  off  to  Dublin  to-morrow  morning, 
so  I'll  not  be  seeing  you  again." 

"  You're  going  to  Dublin  to-morrow,"  he  ex- 
claimed, starting  like  a  man  suddenly  waked  out 
of  sleep. 

"  I  am;  and  it'll  be  many  a  long  day  before  I'm 
back  in  Droumavalla." 

"  Oh,  it's  not  true  —  you  can't  go." 

"And  what  would  keep  me?  Aren't  all  the 
boys  and  girls  I  knew  and  cared  about  dead  or 
gone  from  the  place?" 

"  I  can't  let  you  go.  Kate,  I've  no  words  to 
say,  what  I'm  meaning.  I  want  you  very  bad. 
I've  been  trying  to  tell  you  the  way  I  cared  for 
you  these  weeks  past.  Someways  I  couldn't  face 
up  to  it,  knowing  you  thought  me  a  weak  kind  of 
fool  —  I  was  afraid  and  — " 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more,  Eugene,"  she 
replied  hurriedly.  "  Good-bye  now.  Don't  be 
saying  one  word  more." 

He  sprang  between  her  and  the  door,  and  in 
so  doing  wrenched  his  foot,  and  both  pain  and 


84  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

yearning  gave  such  a  strange  expression  to  his 
face,  she  drew  back  startled. 

"  I'll  make  you  listen,"  he  returned  doggedly. 
"  I've  always  cared  for  you.  And  from  that  night 
I  saw  you  up  at  Rathmore  I've  been  dead  set  on 
getting  you  to  marry  me.  I  was  near  mad  with 
loneliness  when  you  came,  and  you  changed  it  all  in 
an  hour.  Maybe  I'm  not  much  of  a  man,  but 
I've  great  love  for  you,  Kate,  and  I'd  do  anything 
in  the  world  to  please  you." 

"That's  foolish  talk,"  she  replied  curtly. 
"  You'd  put  Coomacarn  before  me  any  day." 

"  You're  not  fair  to  me.  Sure  I  couldn't  do 
without  Coomacarn.  Can't  you  see  the  way  it  is  ? 
'Twould  be  like  cutting  off  a  limb  of  my  own  to 
lose  it.  I'd  be  nothing  but  a  poor  cripple.  We 
couldn't  get  married  without  it  in  view."  He 
began  again  to  tell  her  how  he  loved  her,  and  what 
they  could  do  together.  He  reminded  her  that 
she,  too,  cared  for  the  land,  and  in  a  quick  flow  of 
words  showed  her  what  the  future  might  be  for 
the  two  of  them,  once  the  farm  was  in  their  pos- 
session. He  promised  to  give  it  over  to  her;  she 
could  do  with  it  what  she  wished;  he  would  carry 
out  any  plan  she  laid  down,  any  fancy  that  pleased 
her,  if  only  she  would  agree  to  be  his  wife. 

She  let  him  have  his  say,  looking  at  him  with  a 
kind  of  mute  wonder,  asking  herself  as  she  listened 
how  any  individual  could  change  so  swiftly.  For 
he  was  no  longer  furtive  and  nervous  in  his  man- 
ner, unable  to  support  her  gaze,  as  when  he  spoke 
of  his  father  and  the  farm.  The  strained  air  of 
a  man,  who  is  perpetually  on  the  watch,  who  is 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  85 

always  afraid,  had  fallen  from  him  like  a  garment. 
The  old  power  had  come  back,  the  power  she  had 
loved  in  Michael  and  in  Steve,  and  with  it  was  2 
certain  fire  that  kindled  within  her  a  fierce  answer- 
ing emotion,  though  she  was  indignant  with  him, 
though  she  felt  with  a  kind  of  helpless  rage  that 
he,  by  his  cowardice,  was  keeping  the  two  broth- 
ers apart  still.  They  could  not  be  at  rest,  she 
was  sure;  there  could  be  nothing  but  torment  for 
those  two  who  had  so  greatly  loved;  and  by  one 
act  of  grace  Eugene  might  bring  them  peace. 
When  he  had  finished,  and  was  looking  to  her  for 
an  answer,  she  tried  to  put  this  idea  into  words, 
speaking  with  the  vehemence  that  takes  root  in 
strong  desire : 

"  Eugene,  you  don't  understand  the  way  it  is 
with  me.  I  can't  marry  a  man  that's  afraid  of  his 
father  — " 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him,"  broke  in  the  other; 
"  I'm  afraid  for  the  land." 

"  Ah,  'tis  the  same  thing.  Howsomever,  I'd 
give  into  that  and  I'd  live  here  with  you,  though 
'twould  cost  me  great  pain  and  grief  to  see  you 
cringing  to  that  old  man,  and  'twould  be  very  hard 
to  have  to  do  the  same  to  please  you.  Still  and 
all,  I'd  do  it, —  for  I've  a  great  wish  for  you,  Eu- 
gene —  if  you'd  promise  to  hang  Michael's  like- 
ness on  that  wall,  and  keep  it  there." 

"And  for  why?  For  why?  Can't  you  leave 
that  be?  "  he  cried  in  an  agony. 

"  I  cannot.  'Twould  be  a  great  wrong  and 
shame  to  the  dead.  As  sure  as  I  am  living,  I  know 
no  grace  nor  peace  can  come  to  Michael  or  to 


86  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Steve  until  the  one  likeness  hangs  beside  the  other 
on  that  wall." 

"  Don't  ask  me  what  I  can't  do,"  he  entreated. 

"It's  little  I  ask,"  she  said  sadly;  "  but  every 
bit  of  me  is  set  on  it,  and  for  it  I'd  put  up  with 
your  father's  rages  and  tempers,  and  strive  not  to 
say  one  angry  word.  Eugene,  don't  fail  me  in 
this." 

"  Oh,  Kate,  you  want  to  destroy  me.  'Twill 
mean  the  loss  of  Coomacarn.  Is  there  no  other 
way?  "  He  made  a  movement  in  her  direction, 
holding  out  his  hands  to  her.  She  shook  her 
head  and  he  continued,  "  I  can't  go  back  of  what 
I've  said.  That's  sure.  Listen,  I  never  cared 
for  any  girl  except  yourself,  the  time  I  was  grow- 
ing up.  I'd  no  hope  of  you  then,  with  Michael 
and  Steve  before  me,  and  I  tried  to  twist  my  mind 
some  other  way,  but  'twas  no  use.  My  thoughts 
would  be  ever  and  always  following  you,  and  you 
in  the  States.  'Twas  a  rare  day  when  Denis  told 
me  you'd  come  back.  Faith,  it  made  me  the  hap- 
piest man  in  Ireland.  And  then  them  evenings. 
Sure  the  days  were  like  years  passing.  I'd  be 
thinking  the  night  and  yourself  would  never 
come." 

"Ah  whist,  Eugene  —  whist,"  she  cried;  "I 
can't  be  listening  to  the  like  of  that.  I'm  going 
to  Dublin  to-morrow,  and  never  again  can  we  meet 
in  this  earthly  world." 

"  Ah,  you  won't  desert  me  —  you  won't  go  from 
me,  and  I  in  sore  need  of  you,"  he  begged.  "  I'll 
go  mad  with  loneliness.  Think  of  me  with  the 
old  man  raging,  and  herself  so  queer  and  strange. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  87 

I  couldn't  bear  the  life.  'Twould  torment  me  out 
of  my  wits." 

She  did  not  attempt  to  reply  to  him,  and  went 
quickly  to  the  door.  He  was  before  her,  motion- 
ing her  back,  and  saying,  while  he  shook  all  over 
with  the  intensity  of  his  feelings : 

"  Don't  try  me  too  far,  Kate.  I  won't  let  you 
go  —  I  can't  let  you  go,  till  you're  promised  to 
me." 

She  attempted  to  push  past  him,  but  he  caught 
her  in  his  arms  and  held  her  close.  Frightened 
and  angered  by  the  liberty  he  had  taken,  and  by 
the  savage  look  on  his  face  she  struggled  with  all 
her  might.  For  a  couple  of  minutes  they  rocked 
to  and  fro,  overturning  a  chair,  and  crashing  into 
the  dresser.  His  lame  leg  hindered  his  move- 
ments, causing  him  to  stumble,  and  enabling  her  to 
free  her  arms,  though  he  still  clasped  her  body 
close.  Then,  gathering  all  her  strength  together, 
she  gave  his  shoulders  a  shove  with  her  freed 
hands;  his  grip  relaxed,  and  she  broke  from  him. 

She  did  not  stay  to  draw  breath,  hastening  down 
the  passage  and  out  the  back  door  —  running 
swiftly  across  the  yard  and  up  the  hillside.  His 
voice  sounded  in  the  distance,  calling,  "  Kate  — 
Kate,"  but  she  only  hurried  the  more,  and  it  grew 
fainter  and  fainter  as  the  distance  increased  be- 
tween them.  When  all  sound  had  ceased,  she 
threw  herself  down  on  the  grass,  panting,  trying 
to  compose  herself,  watching  out  for  the  sound  of 
footsteps.  None  came;  and  in  a  little  while  she 
rose  from  the  ground,  preparing  to  pursue  her 
journey  over  the  hill. 


88  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

At  first  she  was  angry,  and  then  almost  glad  at 
the  thought  of  his  treatment  of  her.  During  that 
struggle  something  of  the  man,  though  of  a  primi- 
tive kind,  had  showed  itself;  and  she  wondered  if 
she  were  quite  wrong  in  regarding  him  as  a  soft, 
weak  creature.  It  was  a  strange  fear  that  had 
given  her  feet  wings.  She  was  not  afraid  that  he 
might  keep  her  there  for  any  indefinite  period,  she 
was  afraid  that  her  admiration  for  his  masterful- 
ness would  lead  her  to  submit  and  give  him  her 
promise.  She  knew  she  was  quite  capable  of  this 
weakness;  she  was  never  quite  herself  when  she 
was  with  him.  She  could  not  be  sure,  as  she  was  at 
other  times,  that  her  judgment  would  control  her 
words,  and  fear  of  the  unexpected  in  herself  made 
her  hurry  on  her  way  again. 

The  west  wind  was  still  blowing  steadily,  and 
the  sun  was  going  down,  half  hidden  by  a  ragged 
cloud,  as  Kate  halted  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and 
looked  back  at  Coomacarn  for  the  last  time. 

The  grey  building,  flanked  by  outhouses,  and 
nestling  in  its  green  and  yellow  fields,  was  pleasant 
and  yet  sad  in  her  sight.  It  was  what  she  had 
hoped  to  find  on  her  return;  the  earth  heavy  with 
harvest,  beautiful  in  its  fulfilment,  the  house  wait- 
ing and  ready  for  her  to  make  a  home ;  but  it  was 
empty  and  desolate,  the  two  reapers  gone  from  it. 
As  she  thought  of  them,  her  regret  for  Coomacarn 
and  what  it  might  have  brought  into  her  life  van- 
ished. 

She  could  never  live  there  with  Eugene;  she 
felt  so  angry  with  him  for  his  refusal  to  help  his 
two  brothers  in  what  she  believed  was  their  dire 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  89 

need,  she  did  not  wish  to  see  him  or  hear  of  him 
again.  He  had  had  every  chance,  and  he  had 
failed  her.  Determining  to  put  him  out  of  her 
mind,  she  turned  her  face  in  the  direction  of  Drou- 
mavalla,  and  pursued  her  way  across  the  hill. 

The  sky  was  clear,  but  the  moon  had  not  yet 
risen.  The  twilight  was  a  little  eerie,  and  Kate 
felt  the  loneliness  of  that  high  land,  with  the  chill 
wind  beating  on  her  face,  and  no  house  or  cottage 
in  view.  Soon  she  came  to  a  stony  track  on  which 
she  could  walk  easily;  there  were  no  more  banks 
to  climb.  Steve  and  Michael  had  often  passed 
that  way  with  her,  and  each  bend  of  the  path 
brought  back  to  her  a  fresh  memory,  and  with  each 
memory,  fresh  pain.  They  were  divided,  and 
suffering  for  the  sin  of  that  division,  she  was  sure. 
The  one  brother  had  raised  his  hand  against  the 
other,  and  no  forgiveness  had  followed;  they  had 
gone  out  of  life  hating  each  other.  She  could  not 
imagine  any  end  more  terrible,  when  they  had 
loved  so  well.  Oh,  there  could  be  no  rest  for 
them,  no  happiness.  The  sin  of  that  hatred  would 
keep  them  in  misery  and  in  pain.  The  road  to 
Heaven  was  barred,  the  way  hidden  through  their 
blind  anger. 

Kate's  steps  quickened;  she  was  trying  to  escape 
from  the  distress  occasioned  by  this  belief,  and 
walking  rapidly  she  descended  into  a  narrow  val- 
ley. On  one  side  of  her  stretched  Kilshanick  bog, 
and  on  the  other  a  bare  stretch  of  stony  mountain 
land.  She  had  often  come  here  on  Sunday  after- 
noon, and  seen  Michael  and  Steve  and  their  com- 
panions drawing  the  bog  with  their  hounds.  They 


90  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

seldom  failed  to  start  a  hare,  and  she  remembered 
the  two  men,  splashing  through  the  bog  pools, 
encouraging  their  favourite  dogs  with  calls  and 
cries,  and  laying  bets  on  which  would  find  the  first. 
She  had  tried  more  than  once  to  measure  her 
power  over  the  two  boys  by  setting  them  against 
each  other,  and  endeavouring  to  make  them  quar- 
rel over  their  own  particular  hounds.  It  was  in 
vain;  she  had  not  once  succeeded;  their  friend- 
ship was  too  strong;  a  woman  could  not  have 
broken  it. 

She  recalled  their  strenuous  efforts  —  once  the 
hare  was  started  —  to  turn  it  up  the  mountain 
away  from  the  bog,  so  that  it  should  not  make  a 
circle,  keeping  to  the  soft  treacherous  bed  of  mud 
and  water,  but  would  give  good  sport  in  open 
country;  she  recalled  wet  wintry  days  when  the 
dogs  passed  in  full  cry  with  the  brothers  after 
them,  hallooing,  waving  sticks  and  arms,  their 
eyes  shining  with  excitement.  And  she  had  caught 
the  infection.  Her  own  heart  beating  quickly  she 
had  followed  in  their  wake  calling  too. 

All  the  lads  were  gone  now ;  their  hunting  days 
were  over;  and  that  waste  land  was  desolate,  no 
birds  or  life  of  any  kind  stirring  upon  it;  the  wind 
murmuring  and  sighing  through  the  rushes,  the 
pools  of  earthy  water  dark  and  still.  In  the  vague 
half  light  stunted  bushes  growing  here  and  there 
took  upon  themselves  misshapen  forms  unreal  to 
the  eye.  They  cast  no  shadow  in  that  grey  sever- 
ity between  night  and  day,  but  they  stirred  and 
seemed  to  breathe;  there  was  a  suggestion  of  en- 
ergy and  power  within  them.  They  might  have 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  91 

been  maleficent  beings  watching  over  a  deserted 
land. 

Kate  halted  beside  a  big  stone,  and  leaning  upon 
it  became  lost  in  the  weary  ways  of  regret  for 
the  fine  lads  that  had  left  Droumavalla  as  empty 
as  this  waste;  boys  of  her  own  age  sleeping  in  the 
cold  surf,  in  the  earth  of  foreign  lands,  and  in 
Irish  graves,  for  the  bitter  quarrel  between  the 
brothers,  for  a  harm  that  cannot  be  undone,  for  a 
wrong  that  can  never  be  righted.  Her  distress 
increased  swiftly  and  surely  as  memory  piled  on 
memory.  Her  lips  moved,  but  she  could  not 
bring  herself  to  pray.  What  was  the  use?  It 
was  a  waste  of  breath  and  yearning,  for  God  was 
unmindful  of  her;  God  had  forgotten  the  earth 
when  He  could  allow  such  things  to  be.  And 
yet  she  would  have  given  her  own  life  to  have  been 
able  to  bring  those  two  brothers  back  for  one 
moment  and  to  have  joined  their  hands.  It  was 
forbidden;  night  after  night  she  had  called  for 
them,  but  no  voice  answered,  no  word  came. 

She  closed  her  eyes  and  struggled  with  all  her 
might  against  the  burning  rage  that  filled  her  at 
the  name  of  God.  How  could  He  leave  any  hu- 
man soul  in  such  pain?  Long  shudders  ran 
through  her  body;  she  pressed  her  cheek  against 
the  rock  trying  to  control  herself;  she  beat  her 
hands  against  the  stone,  and  this  mere  physical 
action  brought  about  a  change.  Gradually  the 
tension  relaxed;  it  was  not  possible  that  it  should 
last  any  length  of  time;  passion  spent  itself;  she 
became  calm  again. 

Mind  and  body  had  grown  tired ;  there  followed 


92  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

a  period  of  numbness.  The  house  was  swept, 
garnished,  and  empty,  but  it  did  not  remain  so 
long.  Soon  in  the  place  of  that  other  visitant 
came  fear.  She  first  grew  conscious  of  it  when 
she  wanted  to  open  her  eyes,  and  dared  not  do  so 
because  she  was  afraid.  She  felt  sure  something 
horrible  waited  for  her  out  there  in  the  marsh, 
some  tangible  power  for  ill  lurked  in  the  pools 
ready  to  leap  upon  her  if  she  stirred.  Perhaps  it 
was  sent  from  God  to  punish  her  for  her  blasphe- 
mous anger  against  Him,  but  it  was  more  likely 
to  be  sent  from  below  than  from  above.  And  it 
would  watch  and  wait;  there  was  no  escape;  it 
would  bide  with  her  all  the  hours.  It  would  be 
better  to  face  it  at  once,  and  though  the  dread  was 
heavy  on  her  she  opened  her  eyes,  straightening 
herself,  preparing  to  meet  the  evil  and  face  the 
consequences. 

A  cold  silvery  light  had  brought  back  an  unnat- 
ural day  to  the  world.  There  were  dark  shadows 
stretching  away  from  the  bushes,  and  pools 
gleamed  white  in  the  moon's  radiance.  The  wind 
had  died  down;  all  was  still.  No  living  thing 
was  to  be  seen  anywhere.  There  was  nothing  to 
fear,  no  power  to  keep  Kate  there.  Yet  languor 
crept  over  her,  paralysing  all  her  limbs,  and  she 
stood  very  still  anxiously  waiting. 

A  pale  fair  mist  hovered  at  the  edge  of  the  bog 
cloaking  the  furze  brake  beyond.  From  it  came 
a  familiar  sound.  There  could  be  no  mistake  as 
to  its  origin.  That  was  the  whimper  of  dogs 
worrying  through  gorse  and  bracken,  hot  on  the 
scent  of  some  hidden  animal.  "  A  strange  hour 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  93 

to  be  hunting  and  signs  on  it  they'll  find  too," 
said  Kate  to  herself.  And  as  she  said  this  the 
whining  ceased;  quiet  settled  again  over  the  waste. 
It  was  only  for  a  little  while.  The  bell-like  note 
of  a  hound,  as  he  lifts  his  nose  to  the  air,  sang 
through  the  night.  He  was  telling  out  news  of  the 
prey  to  his  brothers,  and  he  repeated  it  twice 
again  in  a  clear  wild  call.  In  a  moment  dogs,  as 
big  as  fox-hounds,  were  racing  over  the  bog  send- 
ing up  a  wild  clamour  to  the  skies.  Very  pale 
they  were,  their  tongues  hanging  out;  their  coats 
glistening  in  the  moonlight.  They  twisted  in  and 
out  among  the  rocks  and  pools,  sweeping  up  the 
slope  towards  Kate,  and  she  heard  their  quick 
panting  and  they  passing  her,  each  one  straining 
to  be  first  in  the  race.  They  streamed  up  the  hill- 
side away  from  her,  but  she  had  eyes  for  them  no 
longer.  For  a  tall  dark  figure  came  running  and 
stumbling  across  the  bog.  It  was  Michael,  and 
quite  unchanged  as  well  as  she  could  make  out  in 
the  vague  light.  His  face  was  lifted  up  to  the 
hills;  he  opened  his  lips  widely  as  if  to  urge  on 
the  hounds,  but  no  sound  came  from  between  them. 
He  was  drawing  near,  making  straight  for  her  and 
yet  did  not  seem  to  see  her,  so  that  she  wondered 
for  one  wild  moment  if  he  would  fall  upon  her, 
trample  over  the  body,  and  then  pass  on  to  the 
hills. 

He  swerved  a  little  as  he  ran  and  fell  against  the 
stone  upon  which  she  had  been  leaning.  Then 
swiftly,  without  sound  or  sigh,  another  figure  she 
had  not  noticed  before  passed  her.  It  was  Steve, 
and  his  eyes  were  fixed  and  strange  like  his  broth-* 


94  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

er's.  He  stooped  over  his  fallen  companion  and 
helped  him  to  his  feet.  For  an  instant  they  stood 
facing  her  with  linked  arms,  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
smiling  their  old  gay  smile,  and  then  with  a  wave 
of  their  hands  to  the  hills  they  turned  from  her. 

The  spell  was  lifted;  she  moved  quickly  after 
them  calling:  "  Michael  —  Steve  —  don't  be  leav- 
ing me,  and  I  hungering  for  the  sight  of  you  — 
Michael  —  Steve."  They  did  not  heed  her  run- 
ning now  as  fast  as  the  wind.  She  hastened  for- 
ward, plunging  into  the  bog,  crying  to  them.  But 
no  voice  answered,  no  word  came. 

The  moon  had  covered  its  light  with  a  cloud. 
She  plunged  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  slimy 
earth,  and  as  she  struggled  with  the  black  water 
and  the  filth  through  the  darkness  she  kept 
sobbing  still :  "  Michael  —  Steve  —  don't  be 
leaving  me,  and  I  hungering  for  the  sight  of  you. 
Michael  —  Steve." 

"  'Tis  rare  and  late  for  Kate  to  be  walking  the 
hills.  I  wonder  what's  come  to  her,"  murmured 
Maggie  as  she  put  down  her  knitting  and  flung  a 
sod  of  turf  on  the  embers  of  the  fire.  There  was 
no  response  from  Denis,  who  was  resting  in  a  half- 
recumbent  attitude,  his  chin  sunk  upon  his  chest, 
his  eyes  closed,  his  mouth  a  little  open.  The  old 
woman  glanced  at  him,  and  then  shaking  her  head 
got  up  stiffly  from  her  chair  and  crossed  the  room, 
muttering  to  herself,  "  Ah,  sure  the  man  is  dead 
asleep,  and  why  wouldn't  he  be  asleep,  and  he  with 
the  wheat  and  oats  to  be  gathered  and  the  labour 
so  short  I  wish  to  God  Kate  would  stay  and  see 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  95 

him  in  with  the  harvest.  What  frolic  is  there  in 
the  girleen's  head  at  all  to  be  drawing  her  away 
up  to  Dublin?  " 

Denis  stirred  at  the  sound  of  Maggie's  voice 
and  half  opening  his  eyes  blinked  up  at  her.  As 
he  did  so  he  nearly  lurched  off  his  chair,  and  the 
old  woman  caught  at  his  sleeve  to  save  him,  ex- 
claiming: 

"  Rise  up  now,  Denis,  and  be  going  your  ways 
to  bed." 

"  And  for  why?  "  he  inquired  sleepily. 

"  Arrah  musha,  aren't  you  swaying  and  bowing 
and  bending  over  the  kitchen  with  the  slumber  that 
heavy  on  you.  Rise  up  now,  I'm  telling  you,  and 
go  your  ways  up  to  the  bed." 

"  I  will  not  then;  I'll  bide  here  till  Kate  comes 
in,"  he  replied,  and  standing  up  and  stretching 
himself  he  went  on,  "  she's  not  happy  in  herself, 
Maggie.  I'd  know  what's  come  over  the  girl  at 
all.  I  thought  she'd  make  it  up  with  Eugene  and 
settle  down;  but  she  hasn't  one  bit  of  a  wish  for 
him.  Now  it's  away  with  her  to  Dublin." 

"  And  you  may  depend  'twill  be  away  with  her 
to  the  States  in  two  months  or  three,"  broke  in 
Maggie;  "  faith  she's  the  like  of  a  wild  bird  flight- 
ing over  the  sea." 

"  And  she  telling  me  she  was  sick  and  sorry  for 
herself  in  the  great  cities  of  the  world.  I  don't 
rightly  know  what  ails;  but  I'd  like  well  to  keep 
trouble  from  her." 

"  There's  little  you  can  do,  she's  that  quiet  in 
herself." 

Denis  scratched  his  head  in  a  puzzled  silence. 


96  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Then,  taking  his  cap  off  a  nail  he  turned  to  the 
back  door  saying,  "  Well,  I'd  best  throw  an  eye 
over  the  calves.  So  let  you  watch  out  for  her  and 
wet  the  tea  the  time  she  comes  in  and  give  her  her 
fill  of  eating." 

Maggie  was  only  a  few  minutes  alone  and  had 
just  stirred  the  fire  into  a  blaze  and  put  the  kettle 
on  to  boil  when  she  heard  hurried  footsteps  out- 
side, and  there  came  an  urgent  tap-tap  at  the  win- 
dow and  a  voice  calling : 

"  Let  me  in  —  for  the  love  of  God  —  let  me  in 
quick!" 

The  old  woman  unbarred  the  shutters  and  then 
started  back  at  the  sight  of  a  pale  face  looking 
fearfully  at  her  from  the  darkness. 

"  Glory  be  to  goodness,"  she  cried  out,  crossing 
herself;  "it's  Kate  —  my  —  my  what  ails  the 
child?" 

The  other  pushed  up  the  window  and  struggled 
through  the  opening.  Instead  of  replying  she 
hastily  pulled  the  sash  down  again  and  barred  up 
the  shutters.  Then,  with  her  hand  outstretched 
making  the  groping  motion  of  the  blind,  she  stum- 
bled to  a  chair.  At  first  she  would  not  answer  the 
old  woman's  repeated  questions,  sitting  in  a  hud- 
dled-up  attitude  shading  her  eyes  with  her  fingers. 
At  length,  however,  this  curious  rigidity  was  re- 
laxed. She  suddenly  leant  forward,  and  pressing 
her  face  against  the  old  woman's  shoulder  whis- 
pered, "I'm  after  seeing  Michael  and  Steve,  and 
they  hunting  Kilshanick  bog." 

"  Michael  and  Steve !  "  repeated  the  old 
woman;  "God  between  us  and  harm.  .  But 


97 

sure  they're  lying  in  the  cold  ground.  'Tis  dream- 
ing you  are." 

"  'Twas  no  dream,"  Kate  answered,  lifting  her 
head;  "  'Twas  as  clear  as  day.  First  I  heard  the 
dogs  crying,  and  then  they  came  leaping  over  and 
hither  in  the  bog,  and  they  swept  past  me,  and  they 
the  size  of  fox-hounds,  their  pelts  shining  in  the 
light  of  the  moon  —  and  then  —  my  God  —  I 
seen  Steve  and  Michael." 

"  'Tis  in  the  country  of  the  dead  you  have 
been,"  cried  the  old  woman-;  "  Oh,  Holy  Mother 
of  Christ,  bide  with  us  this  night." 

"  Michael  was  running  by  me  and  he  looked 
at  me  and  through  me  by  the  way  he  didn't  see  a 
bit  of  me.  He  fell  crossways  on  the  stone  adja- 
cent to  myself,  and  then  Steve  came  running  by 
and  he  helped  Michael  to  his  feet.  The  one  with 
his  arm  about  the  other's  neck,  they  faced  round 
and  gave  me  one  glad  look,  and  away  with  them 
to  the  hills." 

"  Poor  girleen  —  poor  girleen,"  murmured  the 
old  woman. 

"  I've  been  near  out  of  my  head  ever  since.  I 
don't  know  how  I  got  home."  Kate  choked  a 
little,  breaking  off  and  turning  away.  She  made 
no  further  movement,  sitting  there  staring  at  the 
fire  while  the  old  woman  prayed  softly  under  her 
breath. 

Shadows  were  trembling  and  quivering  along 
the  floor  and  up  the  walls  of  the  kitchen,  and  the 
lamp,  emptied  of  oil,  was  burning  feebly  when 
Kate,  interrupting  the  prayer,  appealed  to  her 
aunt: 


98  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"Oh,  Maggie,  what  will  I  do?  Great  dread 
and  torment  is  on  me.  I'll  never  sup  peace 
again." 

"And  why  so?" 

"  You're  after  hearing  the  way  they  wouldn't 
hang  Michael's  likeness  on  the  wall  of  Coomacarn 
and  how  Steve  threw  it  down?  " 

"  I  am." 

"  The  two  of  them  went  out  of  life  hating  each 
other.  And  certain  I  am  no  rest  nor  peace  will 
be  theirs  because  of  the  bitter  anger  that  was  on 
them." 

Maggie  pondered  for  a  minute  or  two  before 
she  replied: 

"  Listen  to  me,  Kate.  The  souls  of  the  fine 
boys  that  are  after  dying  may  be  near  us  and  about 
us,  but  we  can't  see  them  for  our  eyes  are  dark. 
You  were  sad  and  lonesome  this  night  God  pit- 
ied you,  and  He  it  was  lifted  the  darkness  from 
your  eyes  the  way  you  could  see  Michael  and 
Steve,  and  they  happy  in  theirselves.  Seemly 
the  hate  is  gone  from  them;  they  are  together 
now." 

"  D'you  think  so,  Maggie?  Oh,  if  only  I  could 
be  sure." 

"  It's  as  sure  as  sure.  You  may  depend  on 
it,"  returned  the  old  woman,  and  she  gently 
patted  the  other's  hand  as  she  went  on;  "don't 
be  fretting  your  heart  out  for  the  two  boys.  Let 
your  mind  be  easy.  Sure  God  is  with  them  and 
they  have  good  prayers." 

"  Maybe  so,  but  'tis  a  queer  puzzle.  I  don't 
rightly  understand  —  I  ...  I'm  wondering  will 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  99 

the  night  ever  lift,  will  the  good  times  ever  be 
with  us  again." 

"  Ah,  sure,  there's  a  share  of  trouble  for  all, 
but  there's  a  share  of  ease  and  gladness  too. 
Many  of  the  young  have  travelled  dark  ways  to 
death,  and  heavy  sorrow  is  on  us,  but  in  the  days 
to  come,  if  we  live  long  enough,  ease  and  gladness 
will  light  on  our  hearths  again."  Maggie  paused, 
seeking  to  express  fittingly  what  lay  in  her  mind. 
She  found  what  she  wanted  in  a  moment :  "  I'm 
thinking  sadness  and  laughing  are  the  like  of  the 
swallows;  they  bide  with  us  only  a  small  while." 

"  Only  a  small  while,"  repeated  Kate,  rising 
from  her  seat,  and  she  continued  in  jerky  phrases: 
"  I'm  going  to  bed  now.  Tell  Denis  what  oc- 
curred. Good-night,  Maggie." 

Once  in  her  own  room  she  undressed  quickly  and 
slipped  into  bed.  She  was  too  tired  to  think  or 
to  worry  any  more,  and  she  slept  heavily  until  she 
was  roused  by  her  aunt  calling  her  loudly. 

It  was  still  very  early;  but  there  was  no  time 
to  lose  if  Dublin  was  to  be  reached  that  day. 
Kate  leaped  from  her  bed,  and  in  half  an  hour's 
time  was  prepared  for  her  journey.  Then,  after 
a  last  look  round,  she  descended  the  stairs  to  the 
kitchen.  Maggie  was  bending  over  the  fire  as 
she  entered.  Hearing  a  footstep,  and  perceiving 
who  it  was,  the  old  woman  rose  and  went  to  the 
back  door  calling,  "Denis  —  Denis."  She  re- 
turned a  minute  later,  saying:  "He's  wishful  to 
speak  to  you.  Keep  an  eye  on  the  fire;  I'll  be 
back  in  a  minute." 

Kate  went  over  to  the  window  and  looked  out 


100  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

at  the  dark  day.  The  rain  was  sweeping  across 
the  fields,  and  the  clouds  were  so  low  the  opposite 
hills  were  completely  hidden  by  them.  She  had 
fifteen  miles  to  drive  in  an  open  cart;  she  would 
be  wet  through  before  she  reached  the  station. 
Both  the  wind  and  the  rain  were  against  her  going 
away  that  day,  but  her  mind  was  made  up,  and 
she  was  quite  surprised  when  Denis,  joining  her  at 
the  window  and  pointing  at  the  skies,  said  to  her : 

"  You'll  be  soaked  to  the  skin  if  you  start  in 
that  storm.  Put  off  going  to  Dublin  till  another 
day.  What's  your  hurry  after  all?  " 

She  turned  her  eyes  on  him  doubtfully,  replying: 
"  I'd  better  go.  I  couldn't  stay  here  any  longer 
—  I  couldn't  really." 

"And  why  not?  I'll  miss  you  sore,  Kate. 
Wouldn't  you  stay  just  a  small  bit  longer?  You'd 
be  a  great  help  to  me  saving  the  harvest.  And 
there'll  be  the  thrashing  and  all.  Didn't  you  tell 
me  the  night  you  came  back  that  you'd  set  your 
heart  on  being  home  for  the  thrashing?  " 

"  So  I  had  .  .  .  only  —  someways  things  are 
different." 

"  How  so?  Sure  there's  always  a  place  for  you 
here,  Kate." 

"  I  know  that  well.  .  .  .  I'm  going  away  be- 
cause —  because  every  one's  gone.  The  country 
is  empty,  and  I  can  do  nothing  but  think  of  the 
lads.  The  fields,  the  hills,  the  village,  every  bend 
of  the  road  brings  them  to  my  mind.  It's  pain 
and  torment  to  me.  I  can't  live  here." 

"  I  see,"  he  replied;  "  poor  Kate.  It's  better 
for  you  to  go.  But  come  back  in  a  small  while." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  101 

"  I  just  want  to  try  and  forget.  The  only 
chance  for  me  is  a  big  town.  Oh,  Dinny,  I  may 
be  years  away;  I  may  never  come  back." 

"  Ah,  nonsense." 

"  It's  truth  —  I'm  afraid  of  the  place.  I'm 
afraid  of  being  miserable,  because  trouble  beats 
me  down  into  the  ground,  and  I  can't  rise  up  from 
it.  That's  what  ails." 

'  Then  I'd  best  tackle  the  mare  if  you're  set  on 
going,"  he  replied  brusquely,  and  continued  in 
softened  tones:  "Listen,  Kate.  Rathmore  will 
always  be  your  home ;  and  maybe  some  day  you'll 
come  back  when  times  are  better.  If  you  do  you 
can  be  sure  of  one  thing.  Whatever  hour  you 
come,  there'll  be  a  warm  welcome  for  you." 

He  crossed  the  room,  and  had  disappeared 
from  view  before  she  could  thank  him.  He  was 
greatly  moved  and  did  not  wish  her  to  perceive  it. 
Few  emotions  ever  troubled  his  simple  nature. 
The  round  of  seasons,  the  weather  and  the  crops 
made  up  his  life  for  him.  Through  the  years  of 
their  separation  he  had  cherished  a  faithful  devo- 
tion for  his  sister;  she  was  in  his  eyes  a  woman 
without  peer,  and  it  wrung  his  heart  to  see  her  go 
from  him  in  this  strange  mood.  Perhaps  he 
would  not  have  been  so  anxious  and  distressed  if 
he  could  have  looked  into  her  mind.  The  worst 
part  of  the  struggle  was  over;  and  as  she  stood 
alone  in  the  kitchen  staring  out  at  the  looming 
clouds  and  the  falling  rain,  she  murmured  to  her- 
self: 

"  Maggie  was  right  I'm  thinking.  God  is  with 
them,  and  they  have  good  prayers." 


KATE  had  been  in  Dublin  years  before,  but  she 
did  not  know  the  city  well.  Her  train  brought 
her  into  Kingsbridge  station  about  eight  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  and  it  was  scarcely  nine  o'clock 
when  she  left  her  lodgings  and  eagerly  pursued 
her  way  through  the  narrow  streets  to  the  quays. 
The  queer  lonely  feeling  in  her  heart  made  her 
long  for  a  bright  street,  lights  and  a  crowd.  She 
wanted  to  rid  herself  of  that  awful  sense  of  the 
great  emptiness  of  the  world  which  had  been  so 
strongly  hers  in  Droumavalla ;  she  wanted  to 
brush  against  human  beings,  to  hear  them  laugh 
and  talk,  and  elbow  one  another  as  they  passed 
down  the  street,  and,  above  all,  she  wanted  to  see 
if  there  were  any  men  left  in  Dublin,  or  if  it,  too, 
had  been  swept  clear. 

There  had  been  insurrection  and  fighting  here 
while  she  was  in  America,  and  the  dread  that  the 
city  would  be  as  empty  as  Droumavalla  made  her 
run  down  the  winding  alleys  and  along  the  quays. 
She  paused  for  breath  at  the  corner  of  West- 
moreland Street,  and  after  brushing  back  the  hair 
that  had  wisped  over  her  face,  looked  across 
O'Connell's  Bridge  to  the  wide  houseless  space 
beyond.  Though  she  had  been  expecting  the  sight 
that  met  her  eyes,  and  it  had  been  frequently 
described  to  her,  a  feeling  of  awe  thrilled  through 

102 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  103 

her,  and  for  a  moment  it  was  as  if  a  great  hand 
had  gripped  her  heart  and  clutched  it  close. 

Here  was  the  scene  of  the  principal  fighting 
between  the  Sinn  Feiners  and  the  soldiers;  in 
that  memorable  Easter  week  the  whole  quarter 
had  been  wrecked,  and  owing  to  the  War  rebuild- 
ing was  delayed.  So  that  this  busy  and  central 
portion  of  Dublin  still  showed  the  scars,  in  all 
their  nakedness,  of  that  fierce  passionate  time. 
No  real  effort  had  yet  been  made  to  cover  them 
up  and  obliterate  them.  The  stranger,  armed 
with  a  little  knowledge,  could  still  trace  out  for 
himself  the  road  that  death  and  fire  had  chosen. 

The  long  ruined  street  and  the  ruined  quay 
were  quite  beautiful  on  that  clear  summer  night; 
an  elderly  moon  rode  the  sky,  and  under  its  rays 
broken  bits  of  wall  and  heaps  of  masonry  took 
upon  themselves  a  curious  enchantment  of  soft 
light  and  shadow.  Kate,  having  let  her  eyes  rove 
here  and  there,  and  having  glanced  down  at  the 
dark  sweep  of  the  river,  crossed  the  bridge.  The 
strange  clutching  at  her  heart  was  gone,  and  the 
openness  of  the  prospect,  the  animated  crowds 
surging  up  and  down  excited  her  and  pleased  her. 
"  The  old  dirty  houses  are  down,"  she  murmured, 
"  and  oh,  'twould  be  the  pity  of  the  world  to 
build  them  up  again." 

There  were  many  changes;  it  was  difficult  to 
take  them  all  in  at  once.  The  Abbey  Theatre,  a 
hundred  yards  down  the  quay,  a  squat  grey  build- 
ing, which  had  never  been  seen  before  from  the 
bridge,  was  now  quite  visible,  its  name  standing 
out  clearly  in  bold  white  letters  against  a  black 


104-  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

ground.  A  few  rubbish  heaps,  enclosed  by 
hoardings,  were  all  that  remained  of  the  shabby 
shops  and  public-houses  that  had  intervened. 
Strangely  enough,  all  the  monuments  in  O'Connell 
Street  were  standing.  "  Why  wouldn't  the  sol- 
diers and  the  Sinn  Feiners  with  all  their  fighting 
destroy  that  ugly  snout  of  a  Nelson's  Pillar,  that's 
neither  big  nor  small,  that  looks  no  better  than  a 
drain  pipe?"  Kate  asked  herself;  and  for  a 
moment  her  mind  was  stirred  by  an  ancient 
problem.  Why,  what  is  useless  and  ugly  remains, 
and  what  is  comely  and  useful  is  so  often  removed 
and  destroyed!  She  noted  some  houses  that  had 
not  been  painted  afresh  and  were  still  marked  by 
the  chipping  of  bullets;  shops  she  had  known,  a 
D.B.C.  in  which  she  had  once  been  treated  to 
dinner,  were  gone,  and  she  regretted  very  much 
that  when  she  was  last  in  Dublin  she  had  not 
written  down  the  names  that  were  painted  up  on 
them.  They  would  be  historic  relics,  interesting 
to  possess,  interesting  to  speculate  about  —  names 
that  might  never  be  up  on  shop  fronts  again. 
She  did  recall  one,  Duigan  near  Abbey  Street,  a 
young  man  with  waxed  moustaches  and  beautiful 
white  teeth,  who  had  sold  her  a  pair  of  red  braces 
she  had  sent  to  Denis  as  a  present  on  her  way  to 
America,  bought  out  of  the  five  pounds  he  had 
given  her  at  parting.  She  pictured  to  herself  the 
hundreds  of  socks,  ties,  braces,  and  pairs  of 
trousers  that  poor  young  man  must  have  lost  in  the 
rising  of  Easter  week,  and  she  grieved  for  him 
deeply  for  a  minute  or  two.  Then  her  attention 
was  diverted  into  another  channel  owing  to  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  105 

fact  that  her  progress  was  arrested  by  a  crowd  of 
loiterers,  who  were  smoking,  spitting  and  resting 
after  their  day's  work,  or  talking  to  girls  at  the 
corner  of  Abbey  Street.  She  felt  comforted  by 
the  rank  smell  of  shag,  by  the  voices  and  laughter, 
and  by  the  close  proximity  of  so  many  human 
beings,  and  the  ache  of  loneliness  left  her  as  she 
elbowed  her  way  through  the  jostling  crowd. 

A  little  farther  down  the  street  she  halted  and 
her  jaw  dropped  as  she  gazed  at  the  remains  of 
the  General  Post  Office.  Only  the  smoke-stained 
walls  were  standing;  it  was  just  an  empty  shell. 
And  she  had  bought  a  dozen  ha'penny  stamps 
there  years  before.  .  .  .  She  was  vastly  surprised 
at  the  sight  of  this  cadaverous  ruin  in  spite  of  the 
fact,  that  when  in  the  States,  she  had  received  a 
newspaper  from  home  in  which  it  was  described 
as  follows :  "  Of  the  valuable  and  substantial 
edifice  of  yesterday  only  the  bare  walls  remain 
to-day,  stripped  naked  like  an  eyeless  skeleton, 
precariously  poised  over  its  own  ashes."  Gradu- 
ally, her  surprise  gave  way  to  a  feeling  of  childish 
delight.  It  was  such  a  picture,  and  she  regretted 
that  the  spaces  originally  filled  by  windows  were 
boarded  up.  It  would  have  been  a  grand  place  to 
scamper  about  in,  and  she  would  have  liked  to  dig 
among  the  heaps  of  rubble,  for  surely  gold  belong- 
ing to  the  Post  Office  must  have  been  buried 
there  during  the  shelling  that  had  demolished  it. 

She  strolled  on  farther  and  noted  that  the 
"  Crown,"  "  Gresham,"  and  "  Granville  "  hotels 
were  still  standing.  How  small  and  insignificant 
they  looked  compared  to  the  big  palaces  in  New 


106  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

York,  and  she  turned  from  them  rather  contemptu- 
ously to  find  herself  near  the  "  Rotunda,"  facing 
a  pillar  and  a  new  statue  of  Parnell.  It  annoyed 
her  for  a  moment  to  think  they  should  copy  that 
big  gawky  Nelson's  Pillar,  and  place  it  on  a  far 
smaller  scale  behind  the  great  man.  The  annoy- 
ance passed  as  she  began  to  admire  the  striking 
face  and  figure,  and  read  the  words  near  the 
golden  harp  above  it: 

"  No  man  has  a  right  to  fix  the  boundary  to 
the  march  of  a  nation.  No  man  has  a  right  to 
say  to  his  country,  thus  far  shalt  thou  go  and  no 
further. 

"  We  have  never  attempted  to  fix  the  ne  plus 
ultra  to  the  progress  of  Ireland's  nationhood  and 
we  never  shall." 

Slowly,  as  Kate  retraced  her  steps  down  the 
ruined  street,  she  tried  to  puzzle  out  their  mean- 
ing and  apply  it  to  what  lay  around  her. 

The  crowds  of  the  world  seemed  abroad  that 
night.  Young  boys  and  girls,  old  men  and  women 
stood  about  in  knots  of  two  and  three,  or  strolled 
up  and  down  Westmoreland  Street,  where  the 
newspaper  offices  are  situated,  across  O'Connell's 
Bridge,  down  O'Connell  Street,  then  back  again 
up  past  the  Bank  of  Ireland  and  Trinity  College, 
dark  and  grim.  There  Dame  Street,  with  its 
bright  tobacco  shops  and  offices,  stretched  away 
to  the  right,  or  it  was  possible  to  go  straight  up 
Grafton  Street,  with  its  shuttered  shops,  to  the 
Green  beyond. 

Kate  wandered  in  and  out  through  the  crowd, 
walking  up  and  down  these  streets  in  turn,  not 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  107 

missing  out  one  of  them,  watching  the  throng 
of  people  with  eager  interest  and  looking  out 
for  old  landmarks.  She  was  very  happy  in  this 
great  company  of  men  and  women  of  all  kinds 
and  descriptions,  of  every  human  variety,  but 
the  crown  to  her  enjoyment,  the  foam  upon  the 
cup  of  pleasure  was  not  hers  until  she  mingled 
with  the  strollers  opposite  the  Bank  of  Ireland 
for  the  third  time,  making  one  last  inspection  of 
them  before  she  returned  to  her  lodgings. 

Three  trams,  full  of  people  returning  from 
theatres,  obliterated  the  view  of  Dame  Street 
for  a  moment;  when  they  had  passed  with  a 
long  creak  and  groan,  Kate  perceived  a  file  of 
men  in  dark  uniforms  marching  up  the  road. 
She  watched  them  with  a  rising  excitement,  for 
as  they  drew  near  she  was  able  to  make  out  their 
uniforms,  and  she  noted  that  they  were  a  squad 
of  the  Dublin  Metropolitan  Police  going  off  duty. 
Six  feet  in  height  and  a  corresponding  width  of 
shoulder  are  very  necessary  qualifications  for  those 
who  wish  to  enter  this  service.  As  regards  phy- 
sique there  is  no  finer  force  in  the  world.  Indeed, 
it  is  reputed  that  the  members  of  it  are  chosen 
merely  for  the  sake  of  their  stature  and  great  size; 
they  are  therefore  men  of  an  essentially  masculine 
kind,  a  kind  that  was  after  Kate's  heart.  Years 
ago  some  of  her  own  contemporaries,  boys  from 
Droumavalla,  had  gone  up  to  Dublin  and  joined 
the  D.M.P.  She  wondered  now  if  any  of  them 
were  still  in  the  force  or  if  they,  too,  had  been 
swept  out  of  the  world  with  the  others  she  had 
known. 


108  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  three  dozen  young  giants  filed  past  the 
college  with  a  heavy  tread.  They  were  a  joy 
to  the  eye  with  their  shoulders  well  back,  their 
erect  carriage  and  easy  swinging  stride.  "  Grand, 
long,  loose-limbed  chaps,"  Kate  muttered  to  her- 
self as  she  drew  back  to  the  curb  to  make  way 
for  them.  Then  she  caught  in  her  breath  with 
a  little  gasp  of  happiness.  There  was  Tom 
Casey  and  Joe  Spillane,  boys  she  had  gone  to 
school  with  when  she  was  no  more  than  the  height 
of  a  table,  and  in  whose  company  she  had  been 
often  slapped  and  scolded.  She  recalled  with 
pride  how  she  had,  on  more  than  one  occasion, 
beaten  these  great  big  men  at  the  game  of  hop- 
skotch  played  on  a  bit  of  pavement  that  had  been 
laid  down  on  one  side  of  the  village  street;  how 
they  had  squabbled  and  thrown  stones  at  each 
other,  and  one  day  gone  "  miching  "  from  school 
with  her.  And  now  as  they  marched  by  she 
longed  to  step  forward  and  wring  them  by  the 
hand,  and  talk  to  them  of  the  old  days. 

She  checked  the  impulse,  merely  following  them 
with  her  eyes  until  they  disappeared  round  the 
corner  of  Brunswick  Street.  Her  brother  would 
give  her  their  address;  she  would  meet  them  later 
on  when  she  was  in  a  place  again,  and  with  this 
thought,  and  the  comfortable,  happy  feeling  that 
the  world  was  no  longer  empty,  she  faced  back  to 
her  lodgings. 

They  had  been  recommended  to  her  as  "  apart- 
ments, most  genteel  and  commodious,"  by  Miss 
O'Shea,  the  dressmaker  in  Droumavalla  village; 
they  were  let  by  a  lady  who  styled  herself  Madame 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  109 

Cooney,  and  were  over  a  small  drab  shop  in  a 
back  street.  Miss  O'Shea  possessed  an  exuberant 
imagination,  so  Kate  was  not  surprised  that  her 
bedroom  could  barely  hold  herself,  her  bed,  wash- 
stand,  and  trunk;  that  she  bumped  her  head  vio- 
lently on  her  first  entry  into  the  room;  that  one 
pane  was  out  of  the  window,  and  that  the  other 
panes  were  so  dirty,  curtains  were  not  necessary 
to  keep  out  the  light  or  the  inquisitive  gaze  of 
passers-by.  However,  if  the  bedroom  could 
scarcely  be  described  as  "  commodious  and  gen- 
teel," Madame  Cooney  herself  was  the  soul  of 
gentility  —  a  widow  in  reduced  circumstances, 
compelled  by  the  hard  adversity  of  fate  to  sell 
cheap  sweets,  ha'penny  newspapers,  and  retail 
gossip  in  the  little  shop  during  the  day.  There 
was  no  doubt  —  in  her  own  estimation  —  that  she 
was  a  soul  apart,  one  who  had  seen  better  times, 
and  she  had  assumed  the  prefix  Madame,  partly 
because  it  seemed  good  for  business,  partly  to 
show  her  high  tone  in  comparison  with  other 
ladies  who  kept  shops  in  the  neighbourhood. 

She  was  a  small,  thin,  meevy  woman,  with  an 
immense  Roman  nose  and  hard  high  cheekbones, 
and  had  a  generally  tossed  appearance,  like  a 
soiled  article  left  over  after  a  long  sale,  at  which 
there  has  been  sweeping  reductions.  Curling- 
pins  almost  always  adorned  her  front  hair,  and 
the  ends  remaining  at  the  back  were  generally 
in  a  towsled  state  that  no  brush  apparently  ever 
straightened  out.  When  Kate,  on  her  return 
from  her  walk,  entered  the  little  parlour  behind 
the  shop,  she  was  mending  the  family's  under- 


110  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

garments  in  company  with  her  three  daughters. 
These  three  buds  from  the  parent's  stem  were 
replicas  of  their  mother;  they  had  the  same  moun- 
tainous nose,  the  same  pinched  skin  and  retreating 
chin,  their  peakiness  only  a  little  softened  by  the 
roundness  of  childhood. 

At  the  sight  of  Kate  Madame  Cooney  ordered 
them  off  to  bed  and  put  down  her  work.  She 
had  one  great  pleasure  in  life,  and  that  was  to 
complain,  to  relate  the  tale  of  her  long  martyrdom 
in  this  hard  world.  Kate  was  a  new  acquaintance 
and  might  therefore  be  willing  to  listen. 

After  a  few  preliminary  remarks,  she  plunged 
into  the  tale  of  her  woes,  the  tale  of  a  drunken 
husband,  who  had  been  a  clerk,  the  tale  of  her  slow 
descent  from  gentility  and  a  little  house  in  Rath- 
mines  to  her  present  lowly  state.  "  Sure,  I  never 
knew  a  lucky  day  in  my  life.  My  marriage  wasn't 
lucky,  my  birth  wasn't  lucky  and  my  death  won't 
be  lucky.  Oh,  there's  no  hope  for  me,  Miss  Car- 
mo  dy." 

"  There's  hope  for  every  one,  Mrs.  Cooney," 
replied  Kate  absently,  as  she  pictured  to  herself 
the  long  sloping  stride  of  certain  young  policemen 
in  dark  tight-fitting  uniforms. 

"  Ah,  it's  well  for  a  slip  of  a  girl  like  you  to 
talk.  I  was  a  sickly  baby,  a  sickly  child  and  a 
sickly  woman,"  wailed  Madame  Cooney;  "and 
my  children  are  sickly  after  me.  Why,  a  year 
back  I'd  the  diphtheria  in  my  stomach  that  bad  I 
thought  I'd  never  get  over  it.  I  was  ten  weeks 
on  my  back  roaring  and  screeching  with  pains  in 
all  my  bones.  I  tell  you,  Miss  Carmody,  I'd  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  111 

rise  from  my  bed  a  dying  woman  and  I've  been 
minding  the  children  and  the  shop  night  and  day 
ever  since.  Oh,  I  wish  I'd  died  young,  I  wish  I'd 
died  young." 

"  You've  a  right  to  rouse  yourself,  Mrs. 
Cooney,  and  go  walking  abroad  in  the  evening. 
I'm  after  walking  down  O'Connell  Street,  watch- 
ing the  throngs  of  men  and  women,  and  I  can  tell 
you  I'm  as  happy  as  a  queen." 

"  There's  a  great  flush  of  men  over  from  Eng- 
land —  hiding  from  conscription  they  say.  But 
what  good  would  it  do  me  to  be  looking  at  them. 
I'd  only  be  thinking  of  this  terrible  War  and  all 
the  fighting  and  murdering,  and  what  for?  Sure, 
when  you  think  you're  going  to  grasp  what's  there 
it's  gone."  Mrs.  Cooney's  voice  became  a  whine 
again,  and  the  corners  of  her  mouth  drooped 
despondently  as  she  continued:  "  Oh,  I  could  never 
be  cheerful  again.  I  wish  I'd  died  young." 

Kate  lost  patience  with  this  whining;  she  could 
not  understand  the  delights  of  pessimism,  the  un- 
alloyed joy  of  a  martyred  life,  and  there  was  an 
edge  of  irritation  in  her  voice  as  she  rose  from 
her  chair,  and  shaking  herself  like  a  collie  dog  who 
has  been  resting  on  his  paws,  an-swered  back  with 
decided  sharpness : 

"  Nonsense,  woman,  it's  a  grand  world.  I 
wouldn't  leave  it  if  you  paid  me  good  money  down. 
Isn't  it  a  grand  place  and  a  grand  city  where  you 
have  the  D.M.P. —  great,  long,  loose-limbed 
chaps!  Oh,  you  wouldn't  find  their  weight  nor 
their  size  in  the  States,  I  can  tell  you,  nor  anywhere 
else  in  the  wide  earthly  world." 


112  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  It's  no  kind  of  a  world  at  all,"  Madame 
Cooney  piped  shrilly,  "  where  you'd  pay  293.  nd. 
for  shoes  that  two  years  back  were  95.  i  id.  And 
the  prices  you'd  pay  for  flannel  petticoats!  Oh, 
you'd  be  surprised!  " 

"  But  the  D.M.P.,"  broke  in  Kate. 

"  Ah,  get  on  with  your  D.M.P.  What  good 
are  they?  What  are  they  there  for,  when  they 
can't  keep  down  the  prices?  Before  the  War  I'd 
go  into  town,  and  get  the  makings  of  an  apron  for 
is.  6d.,  and  now  it's  35.  6d." 

"  Sure  the  D.M.P.  aren't  there  to  be  minding 
the  women's  petticoats,  aprons,  and  boots.  The 
future  of  Ireland  depends  on  them."  Kate 
couldn't  explain  how  it  did,  but  the  phrase  was  one 
she  had  got  out  of  a  story  in  Erin's  Own,  and  it 
sounded  well,  so  she  repeated  it  with  such  decision, 
Madame  Cooney  wiped  her  eyes  with  the  corner 
of  her  expensive  apron  and  relapsed  into  a  moist 
silence. 

Kate,  perceiving  the  laohrymous  contortion  of 
her  features,  suddenly  felt  pity  for  her  and  deter- 
mined to  cheer  her  up  with  a  discourse  of  a  cheer- 
ful nature,  a  discourse  on  various  species  of  men, 
on  the  ones  that  were  dangerous,  and  the  ones 
that  were  not,  and  on  the  proper  attitude  to  be 
adopted  by  the  female  towards  them. 

'  There's  nothing  like  a  man,"  she  began. 
1  That's  why  I  like  the  D.M.P.  I'd  go  to  any 
place  where  I'd  find  a  man  —  a  big  man  full  of 
hair." 

"  Oh,  indeed!  "  returned  Mrs.  Cooney  crustily; 
"  you  know  nothing  about  them  if  you  say  that. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  113 

I  can  tell  you  I  don't  like  one  bone  in  their  body, 
and  I  never  will." 

"  And  I  like  every  bone.  I  declare  I'd  die  to- 
morrow if  I  was  shut  away  from  the  chaps." 

"  Are  you  the  queer  unnatural  kind  that's  al- 
ways in  love?  "  asked  Madame  Cooney  hopefully. 
She  had  occasionally  borrowed  from  friends  penny 
novelettes  belonging  to  the  series  entitled  "  Smart 
Fiction  and  Cinema  Chat,"  and  wallowed  in  the 
passions  of  young  maidens  with  golden  hair  and 
blushing  complexions.  She  had  never  met  their 
prototypes  in  real  life,  but  desired  very  much  to 
do  so,  and  though  Kate  did  not  answer  to  their 
description,  she  might,  all  the  same,  be  of  that 
kind. 

"  Sure  I  don't  care  a  bit  about  men.  It's  only 
their  company  I  like,"  Kate  replied  with  decision; 
"  and  I  wouldn't  live  with  men  with  regular  habits 
if  you  gave  me  all  the  gold  in  Ireland.  They  can 
never  be  pleased." 

"  Well  now,  isn't  that  strange  I  And  I  thought 
you  were  the  sort  that  was  always  love-making." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  Mrs.  Cooney,  not  a  bit  of  it. 
I  wouldn't  look  at  a  man  that  runs  after  girls. 
I've  no  patience  with  them.  I  like  the  kind  that 
doesn't  care  if  a  woman's  there  or  not.  It's  the 
talk,  the  joking  with  them,  that's  fine."  Kate 
paused  reflectively,  and  then  continued:  "I 
couldn't  abide  a  pack  of  women;  but  you  could 
always  have  a  grand  evening  with  a  fellow, 
whether  you  liked  him  or  no.  Oh,  there's  many 
an  evening  down  in  Droumavalla  I  made  sport 
with  the  boys,  I  can  tell  you." 


114 

"  Ah,  what  good  is  that?"  cried  Madame 
Cooney,  disappointed  of  her  romance. 

"Good!  Why,  men  have  an  intellect. 
Women  have  no  sense  or  reason.  Their  talk  is 
all  raumeish  and  gossip.  Oh,  I've  no  patience 
with  them." 

"  Listen  now,  Miss  Carmody,  take  my  word 
for  it,  the  men  are  very  deceitful;  you  couldn't 
trust  them.  They'd  deceive  you  up  to  your  very 
face.  Oh,  some  of  them  twisters  have  two  faces. 
They  show  you  one  face,  and  they  keep  the  other 
face  to  themselves.  Look  at  the  way  my  Joe 
treated  me,  drinking  his  wages  on  me." 

The  whining  note  had  crept  into  Madame 
Cooney's  voice  again,  and  Kate  interrupted  her 
hastily:  "I  think  I'll  be  beating  up  to  bed, 
ma'am ;  it's  getting  late,  it's  on  the  blow  of  twelve." 

Madame  Cooney  followed  her  to  the  door, 
saying  darkly:  "  You  think  I'm  making  up  stories 
about  myself,  but  every  word  I'm  after  saying  is 
true.  Nothing  ever  went  right  with  me.  My 
poor  son  Tim  died  on  me;  and  as  for  them  girls. 
Sure  the  makings  of  a  red  flannel  petticoat  is  three 
shillings,  not  to  mind  tapes  and  buttons.  Oh,  I've 
gone  queer  like.  I  was  fond  of  the  children  when 
they  came  first.  I'm  cool  with  them  now." 

"  And  why  wouldn't  you  be  cool  with  them  — 
bits  of  gubbawns,  not  one  beauty  among  them. 
Now,  if  you'd  a  nice  little  chap,  'twould  be  some- 
thing." 

"  I've  gone  solid  somehow.  Sure  if  I'd  the 
whole  world,  I  couldn't  be  happy  now." 

Kate  perceived  the  corner  of  the  apron  rising 
again,  and  made  a  rush  for  the  passage,  and  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  115 

the  sound  of  snuffling  climbed  the  rickety  old 
stairs.  She  felt  happy  and  cheerful;  and  this 
woman  irritated  her  with  her  whimperings. 
What  good  was  she  at  all?  A  poor  weak  creature 
that  couldn't  rear  one  son!  No  wonder  her  hus- 
band had  gone  drinking  his  wages ;  it  was  strange 
he  hadn't  done  worse. 

Kate  was  only  a  few  minutes  getting  to  bed; 
it  was  not  possible  for  her  to  sleep  at  once. 
Accustomed  as  she  was  to  the  great  silence  of  the 
country,  her  ears  kept  listening  for  the  noises  of 
the  streets;  and  as  she  lay  there  in  the  darkness 
of  the  little  stuffy  room,  her  mind,  bright  and 
alert  in  spite  of  the  weariness  of  her  body,  went 
over  the  day's  happenings  again  and  again.  She 
had  only  left  Droumavalla  that  morning,  and  yet 
Droumavalla  and  its  empty  desolation  seemed  so 
far  away.  It  was  gone  now  for  good;  there  was 
no  need  to  be  looking  back;  that  would  be  only 
foolishness.  All  about  her  stretched  the  great 
city  with  its  sleeping  thousands,  with  policemen 
dotted  here  and  there  in  the  maze  of  streets, 
stamping  up  and  down  on  their  solitary  beat, 
looking  after  her  and  every  one  else,  the  future 
of  Ireland  depending  on  them.  Two  of  the  boys 
from  Droumavalla  were  among  them,  and  there 
were  probably  other  lads  from  County  Cork  be- 
longing to  the  force.  She  would  soon  be  making 
their  acquaintance,  and  she  was  no  longer  lonely, 
for  the  old  times  would  come  back  again. 

A  feeling  of  comfortable  security,  of  utter  well- 
being  was  Kate's,  when  sleep  at  last  clouded  her 
active  brain  with  its  heavy  veils. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A  FEW  days  after  her  arrival  in  Dublin  Kate  had 
found  a  place  and  was  being  taken  over  a  house  in 
Clontarf  and  given  her  orders  by  her  mistress, 
Miss  Lavinia  Peacock,  who  was  the  eldest  of  a 
shrivelled  sisterhood,  a  virgin  band  consisting  of 
four  ancient  ladies  between  the  ages  of  sixty  and 
seventy-five.  They  were  interesting  relics  of 
another  generation,  belonging  to  a  class  that  has 
nearly  died  out  in  Ireland  —  their  father  having 
been  a  member  of  the  landed  gentry,  and  at  one 
time  the  possessor  of  an  estate  in  West  Meath,  a 
fact  they  made  a  point  of  never  allowing  their 
suburban  visitors  to  forget  or  overlook.  Reduced 
circumstances,  an  "  outrageous  tenantry "  com- 
pelled them  to  live  in  this  rather  dismal  Dublin 
suburb.  They  were,  however,  in  the  habit  of  in- 
forming other  members  of  the  clan  of  Peacock 
that  they  dwelt  there  for  the  sake  of  the  beautiful 
sea  air,  which,  according  to  them,  was  most  healthy 
and  invigorating.  It  was  certainly  of  an  odorous 
nature,  as  the  city  rubbish  heap  was  just  outside 
their  door,  and  beyond  that  stretched  a  waste  of 
slob  land  meeting  in  the  dim  distance  a  grey  green 
sea.  The  rubbish  heap  and  slob  land  were  called 
the  strand  by  the  old  ladies,  and  perhaps  it  was 
this  beautiful  vista  of  refuse  and  mud  that  had 
inspired  them  each  year  on  the  anniversary  of  the 

116 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  117 

death   of  "  dear  papa  "  to   insert  the   following 
notice  in  the  Irish  Times: 

In  loving  memory  of  Julius  John  Peacock. 
"  We  shall  meet  on  that  beautiful  shore." 

Inserted  by  his  sorrowing  daughters,  Lavinia, 
Diamond,  Honor,  and  Juniper. 

The  lives  of  the  Misses  Peacock  were  not  with- 
out colour;  indeed  their  interests  were  so  many 
and  varied,  it  would  be  impossible  to  enumerate 
them.  Amongst  their  enthusiasms,  the  most  vital 
perhaps  might  be  said  to  be  an  enthusiasm  for  a 
plentiful  table,  and  rich  well-cooked  food,  and 
after  that  the  saving  of  their  immortal  souls  by 
constant  attendance  at  the  parish  church,  the 
immoralities  of  maids,  and  last,  but  not  least, 
German  atrocities.  On  the  whole,  however,  the 
bloodthirsty  joy  experienced  by  them  in  the  dis- 
cussion of  a  parlour-maid's  misdemeanours  or  a 
fresh  German  atrocity  did  not  equal  the  exquisite 
pleasure  of  well-cooked  meats.  Recognising  this 
fact,  Miss  Lavinia,  who  kept  house  for  the  family, 
always  paid  a  good  wage  to  the  cook. 

Kate  had  not  liked  the  looks  of  this  old  lady, 
with  her  hard  mouth  and  wrinkled  horny  face, 
when  she  had  been  interviewed  by  her  at  the 
registry  office,  but  the  wage  compensated  for  what 
might  be  only  unattractive  appearances  and  a 
severity  of  manner  that  is  occasionally  to  be  met 
with  in  elderly  spinsters  of  a  past  age,  who  are 
the  possessors  of  a  pedigree.  Accordingly,  Kate 
removed  herself  and  her  belongings  from  Madame 
Cooney's  bedroom  to  this  suburb. 


118  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  kitchen  at  No.  3  Strand  View  was  like 
most  other  kitchens  belonging  to  the  middle 
classes;  and  she  found  all  the  requisites  necessary 
for  cooking  in  it.  She  was  a  little  taken  aback 
by  the  wilderness  of  ornaments,  photographs  and 
knick-knacks  in  the  upstairs  rooms,  which  it  was 
her  duty  to  assist  Ellen,  the  parlour-maid,  in  keep- 
ing clean,  and  also  by  the  size  of  the  Misses 
Peacock's  laundry,  which  it  was  her  duty  to  wash 
and  put  through  the  mangle.  Still  she  was  not 
unduly  depressed  until  she  le/arnt  that  every  mor- 
sel of  food  was  locked  up  for  fear  the  maids  might 
steal  it;  that  no  male  ever  entered  the  house, 
and  that  Strand  View  Terrace  was  so  extraordi- 
narily quiet  and  respectable  policemen  were  rarely, 
if  ever,  known  to  come  near  it. 

Kate  was  by  nature  extremely  honest,  and  her 
pride  was  hurt  by  the  daily  doling  out  of  food  to 
be  cooked,  by  the  insinuation  that  as  soon  as  Miss 
Peacock's  back  was  turned  she  would  gobble  it  up, 
and  the  watchfulness  exercised  by  Miss  Diamond 
and  Miss  Honor  to  checkmate  such  greed. 
"  Sure  I'd  like  to  throw  the  eggs  and  the  tea-leaves 
in  their  face,"  she  exclaimed  on  the  second  morn- 
ing after  her  arrival  to  Ellen;  "  the  old  peahens! 
What  right  have  they  to  go  on  as  if  we  were  con- 
victs in  gaol?  " 

"  Can't  you  whist?  "  said  Ellen  fearfully. 

"And  why  would  I  whist?     Isn't  it  true?" 

"  Oh,  it's  true  right  enough,  but  don't  be  roaring 
it  out  like  that.  Miss  Diamond  could  be  spying 
on  us." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  119 

"  Spying  on  us !  Merciful  God,  what  a  pack 
of  women!  " 

"  Have  sense  now  and  listen  to  me,"  begged 
the  little  pale-faced  parlour-maid,  and  her  hand 
was  trembling  as  she  leant  forward,  speaking  in  a 
low  anxious  whisper:  "The  last  cook,  Bridie 
Quirke,  was  drove  out  of  the  house  with  a  week's 
notice  and  no  character.  And  what  for?  Be- 
cause Miss  Lavinia  gave  her  all  sorts  about  the 
dinner,  no  matter  what  way  she  cooked  it;  and 
one  day  Bridie  came  down  from  her  flaming,  and 
let  a  great  mouthful  of  an  oath  out  of  her  and 
wished  them  all  in  Hell  and  worse  besides.  But 
Miss  Diamond  was  listening  at  the  door  and  told 
on  her.  So  she  was  sent  marching  without  a 
character.  Wasn't  that  an  awful  thing  for  any 
poor  girl?  " 

"  And  why  would  it  be  awful?  " 

"  Without  a  character." 

"  Ay,  'twas  bad  surely,  but  there's  worse  things 
than  that." 

"  What  could  be  worse?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Kate  eyed  Ellen  curiously. 
"  Tell  me  now,  you've  been  a  good  while  with 
them?" 

"  Four  years.     It's  my  first  place." 

"  And  you  never  wanted  to  give  notice?  " 

"  Scores  of  times,  but  I  was  afeared.  It  was 
this  way.  I  gave  notice  one  time,  and  Mins 
Lavinia  lepped  on  me  and  said  she'd  give  me  no 
character.  She  was  raging  and  put  the  heart 
across  me  with  her  talk.  Oh,  I'd  like  well  to 


120  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

leave  them,  but  indeed  I'd  be  afeared.  What 
would  I  do,  and  I  leaving  my  first  place  with  no 
character." 

Kate  did  not  answer  for  a  moment,  staring 
over  her  teacup  at  the  small  anxious-looking  girl 
with  her  timid  sheep's  eyes  and  subdued  air  as  if 
all  the  vitality  had  been  sucked  out  of  her.  It 
was  a  rather  pitiable  picture,  and  the  older  woman, 
putting  down  her  cup,  said  thoughtfully:  "You 
poor  creature !  They  caught  you  green  and 
young."  Then  she  rose  briskly,  and  there  was  a 
defiant  note  in  her  voice  as  she  continued :  a  Well, 
you  may  be  sure  of  one  thing.  Come  day,  go  day, 
I'll  be  half-way  to  Hell  cursing  them." 

Kate  did  not  intend  to  take  violent  action  with 
her  tongue  at  once,  but  she  had  no  intention  of 
putting  a  bridle  on  it  when  in  the  kitchen,  and  she 
had  every  intention  of  commenting  on  the  Misses 
Peacock's  ways  and  doings  if  the  spirit  so  moved 
her.  In  their  presence,  however,  she  was  calm 
and  self-contained,  using  few  words  in  any  reply 
she  made  to  them  when  they  addressed  her.  She 
was  determined  to  give  the  place  a  fair  trial,  and 
so  held  her  judgment  in  suspense  for  a  little  while. 

The  Misses  Peacock  were  threatened  with 
obesity,  and  their  figures  were  distinctly  peculiar. 
They  had  sunken,  withered  chests  and  wide-spread- 
ing hips.  The  tallest  of  them  and  the  second 
eldest,  Miss  Juniper,  Kate  soon  discovered  was 
the  most  human.  She  suffered  from  rheumatism 
and  a  stiff  neck,  and  for  this  reason  had  to  walk 
downstairs  sideways  .and  never  went  out,  not  even 
to  church.  Not  having  acquired  any  front  teeth 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  121 

after  her  last  set  had  fallen  out,  she  spoke  in  gulps, 
and  was  therefore  at  a  disadvantage  when  at 
table  conversation  —  as  it  frequently  did  —  took 
an  acrimonious  turn  and  became  swift  and  violent. 
She  always  wore  a  much-trimmed  black  dress, 
which  looked  as  if  it  had  been  put  away  in  a  box 
for  a  long  time  and  had  got  rusty,  a  black  funereal 
band  in  her  white  hair,  and  a  narrow  velvet  ribbon 
round  her  neck.  This  ribbon  betrayed  her  nature, 
a  nature  which  her  sisters  felt  had  a  certain  moral 
looseness  and  should  be  kept  in  check.  For  she 
was  inclined  to  be  romantic  and  slightly  idiotic,  and 
was  accordingly  snubbed  by  them  on  every  possible 
occasion. 

One  morning  when  Kate  was  sweeping  the  par- 
lour she  called  her  over  to  her  and  showed  her 
the  miniature  of  a  young  man  in  old-fashioned 
dress. 

"  My  lover,"  she  said  with  a  slow  gulp. 

"  Your  lover!  "  Kate  exclaimed,  and  then  look- 
ing down  at  the  wrinkled  old  crone  stammered  in 
amazement:  "Well,  isn't  he  a  beautiful  young 
man !  You  —  you  don't  mean  to  say  'he  comes 
courting  you !  " 

"  Yes,  he  courted  me,"  the  other  replied  with 
some  pride. 

"  Well,  now,  isn't  he  the  lad!  He's  after  your 
fortune,  I  suppose?"  Kate  had  at  first  been 
staggered  by  Miss  Juniper's  announcement,  but 
she  was  too  well  used  to  the  made-up  marriage  in 
the  country  not  to  feel,  after  a  moment's  reflection, 
that  in  spite  of  rheumatics,  stiff  neck,  and  want  of 
teeth,  it  was  quite  possible  that  this  old  dame  was 


122  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

being  wooed  by  an  attractive  and  beautiful  young 
man  who  required  a  large  sum  of  money  in  order 
to  set  up  in  business.  Considering  the  age  and 
appearance  of  the  girl  in  question,  the  bargain 
seemed  to  her  a  very  fair  one. 

"  I  was  twenty-one  when  he  asked  for  my 
hand,"  continued  the  old  lady,  calmly  upsetting 
this  satisfactory  conclusion,  "  and  I  was  very  much 
in  love.  But  my  dear  papa  —  and  I  am  sure  he 
was  quite  right  —  didn't  think  it  a  suitable  match 
because  his  father  was  in  business.  So  I  refused 
him,  and  he  went  away  and  I  never  saw  him 
again." 

"  Imagine  now !  A  fine  strapping  man  like 
that!" 

"  It  was  better  so.  His  family  owned  a  big 
draper's  shop  in  Dublin.  A  Peacock  of  Peacocks- 
ville  couldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  trade.  It 
was  not  possible  for  me  to  forget  my  name  and 
position.  But  I  kept  this.  I  know  it  was  very 
wicked.  I  —  somehow  —  I  couldn't  help  it. 
He  gave  it  to  me."  Miss  Juniper  held  up  a  posy 
ring  on  which  was  written: 

United   hearts.     Death   only   parts. 

Kate,  looking  down,  noticed  a  slow  glistening 
tear  creeping  across  the  old  woman's  seamed 
cheek,  and  she  noticed,  also,  the  ugly  sunken 
mouth,  the  misshapen  figure,  the  scanty  white 
hair  which  failed  to  cover  certain  bald  patches, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  the  coquettish  ribbon  round 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  123 

the  scraggy  neck,  and  she  shivered,  realising  that 
this  faded  old  remnant  had  once  been  young  and 
pretty  and  loved. 

"  Miss  Lavinia  wouldn't  like  me  to  be  talking 
to  you.  But  I  see  so  few  people.  I  —  I  feel 
sometimes  I  must  talk  to  some  one." 

"  It's  a  beautiful  ring  and  a  beautiful  young 
man,"  replied  Kate  sympathetically;  "  and  you 
were  lucky  indeed  to  be  courted  by  him.  After 
all,  isn't  courting  the  best  part  with  a  man?  Sure 
once  you're  married  and  the  children  are  squalling 
there  he  doesn't  bother  his  head  much  about  you." 

"  Perhaps  so  —  perhaps  so.  Anyway  Lavinia 
and  dear  papa  said  it  was  impossible."  The  tear 
was  furtively  wiped  away,  and  in  a  minute  or  two 
Miss  Juniper  rambled  on  half  to  herself  and  half 
to  her  listener:  "  Times  have  changed.  Things 
were  very  different  in  those  days,  and  perhaps 
they  were  better.  Dear  mama  fined  us  if  we 
went  into  the  kitchen  or  put  our  feet  on  the  fender, 
and  we  were  never  allowed  to  go  outside  the 
place  alone.  But  we  had  very  loving  parents. 
Papa  was  so  kind,  and  though  he  was  very  busy 
—  he  had  no  steward  and  always  managed  his 
own  estate — he  used  to  play  croquet  and  ride 
with  us  whenever  we  asked  him." 

These  remarks  apparently  required  no  reply, 
and  Kate  proceeded  to  dust  the  numerous  photo- 
graphs and  ugly  china  figures  that  decorated  the 
room,  while  the  old  lady  put  away  her  posy  ring 
and  'secreted  the  miniature  in  the  bosom  of  her 
dress.  This  action  perhaps  suggested  young  men 


124  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

to  her  thoughts  again,  for  she  began :  "  Have 
you  ever  had  any  conversation  with  our  milk- 
man?" 

"  I  had  a  word  with  him  this  morning,  ma'am," 
replied  Kate. 

"  Some  of  the  lower  classes  are  quite  well  edu- 
cated," Miss  Juniper  pursued;  "  and  he  most 
certainly  has  studied  a  great  deal.  He  is  learning 
Spanish,  and  has  read  most  of  the  standard  books. 
He  told  me  that  quite  different  kinds  of  flowers 
grow  on  the  opposite  banks  of  the  river  Suir.  Oh, 
he  knows  a  lot  of  botany.  I  talk  to  him  some- 
times for  half  an  hour.  But  of  course  I  forgot, 
you  couldn't  talk  to  him.  A  man  of  that  class 
might  take  liberties  with  young  girls  if  they  talked 
to  him." 

"  Some  men  are  dangerous,  ma'am.  But  I'm 
well  able  to  hold  me  own  with  them." 

"  You  had  better  be  careful  all  the  same.  The 
best  of  them  may  lead  a  young  person  of  your 
years  astray." 

Kate  was  thirty-three  and  had  seen  a  great  deal 
of  life  in  the  States,  and  she  was  about  to  convey 
this  fact  as  politely  as  possible  to  the  old  lady  when 
Miss  Lavinia  burst  into  the  room  and  glared  sus- 
piciously at  her  sister.  "  Talking  to  Kate !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Keeping  her  back  from  her  work ! 
How  many  times  have  I  absolutely  forbidden  you 
to  talk  to  the  maids?  No,  I  won't  take  any  ex- 
cuse." 

Juniper  was  beginning  to  gulp,  which  was  al- 
ways a  warning  that  she  intended  to  break  into 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  125 

speech  of  more  than  ordinary  length.  At  this 
last  admonition,  however,  the  gulp  subsided  and 
she  stumped  feebly  from  the  room. 

"  Indeed,  Kate,  you're  very  behindhand  with 
your  work,"  continued  Lavinia.  "  This  room 
should  have  been  done  out  an  hour  ago.  You 
mustn't  make  Miss  Juniper's  silly  chatter  an  ex- 
cuse for  doing  no  work.  There  must  be  no  more 
of  this  idling,  you  understand.  It's  dishonest;  it's 
cheating  your  employer  of  the  time  she  pays  you 
for." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,"  Kate  replied  quietly, 
though  she  raged  inwardly.  She  had  been  work- 
ing steadily  since  six  o'clock  that  morning  with  a 
short  interval  for  breakfast,  and  it  was  now  almost 
mid-day.  She  felt  very  strongly  the  injustice  of 
these  remarks,  but  determined  to  bide  her  time 
and  hold  her  peace  for  the  present. 

Kate  found  it  more  and  more  difficult  to  keep 
herself  in  check  in  the  days  that  followed.  A 
petty,  almost  unendurable,  persecution  began  and 
continued  through  the  day.  Punctually  at  half- 
past  five  every  morning  Diamond  was  waked  by 
an  alarum  clock,  and  she  came  downstairs,  without 
her  false  fringe,  in  one  of  her  father's  overcoats 
metamorphosed  into  a  dressing-gown,  to  rouse  the 
maids.  "  Get  up,  Ellen !  Get  up,  Kate !  "  she 
would  mutter,  then  watch  them  for  a  moment  be- 
fore resorting  to  more  violent  measures.  But 
this  summons  rarely  failed  to  reach  them  —  and 
certainly  in  her  drab  voluminous  garment,  with 
her  hard  flint-like  jaw  and  fox  eyes,  she  was  a 


126  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

figure  sinister  enough  to  summon  any  sleeper  out 
of  the  heaviest  slumber  back  into  the  bad  dream 
of  living  with  a  startled  groan. 

Most  human  beings  vaguely  resemble  some 
animal,  and  quite  apart  from  a  pair  of  cunning 
pale  brown  eyes  and  a  long  pointed  snout,  Dia- 
mond had  many  of  the  attributes  of  the  fox.  In 
the  dim  light  of  the  early  morning  it  was  her 
habit  to  pad  about  the  kitchen,  nosing  in  and  out 
among  the  drawers,  snuffling  with  malignant  joy 
if  she  came  upon  questionable  articles  belonging 
to  the  maids,  or  if  she  found  the  rolling-pin  not 
in  its  proper  place,  or  pots  and  pans  in  disorder, 
or  dish-covers  without  a  mirror-like  shine. 

When  her  victims  were  dressed  and  she  saw 
Kate  at  the  fire,  lighting  it  to  heat  the  bath,  Dia- 
mond retired  to  rest  and  slept  peacefully  until 
nine  o'clock,  then  Lavinia  would  come  into  her 
room  fully  clad,  and  while  the  younger  sister  fixed 
her  false  fringe  and  other  artificial  accessories  she 
would  tell  the  tale  of  her  discoveries  in  the  kitchen, 
and  they  would  consult  together  like  two  generals 
as  to  their  plan  of  campaign  against  the  maids 
that  day. 

Every  morning,  as  soon  as  breakfast  was  over 
and  the  newspaper  read  by  the  eldest  and  youngest 
of  the  Misses  Peacock,  Kate  had  to  face  the  hard- 
est moment  of  the  day  —  the  ordering  of  dinner, 
and  comments  on  the  preceding  dinner.  First 
the  menu  was  made  out  by  Lavinia,  then  there  was 
a  soliloquy  on  the  necessity  for  war  economy  and 
the  using  up  of  the  minutest  scraps  —  the  Misses 
Peacock  never  stinted  themselves,  and  in  spite 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  127 

of  an  overflowing  and  aggressive  patriotism,  suf- 
fered frequently  from  a  diet  that  was  both  too 
heavy  and  too  plentiful  for  ladies  of  their  age 
—  a  lecture  followed  on  the  cooking  of  each 
course,  on  the  robbery  and  trickery  of  trades- 
men, and  the  necessity  for  watchfulness  on  Kate's 
part.  Finally,  Lavinia  turned  to  her  sister  with 
a  question  that  never  altered  in  its  formula : 
"  Diamond,  my  dear,  what  fault  was  it  we  found 
yesterday?  " 

There  always  was  a  fault  to  find  and  always 
Kate  was  to  blame.  It  did  not  matter  that  she 
had  the  highest  recommendations;  and  that  other 
mistresses,  both  American  and  Irish,  had  found  no 
flaw  in  her  cooking,  and  had  testified  to  its  being 
both  admirable  and  hygienic,  still  the  Misses  La- 
vinia and  Diamond  had  their  reproaches  to  make, 
and  almost  invariably  accused  Kate  of  carelessness 
and  of  nefarious  designs  on  their  digestion. 

"  The  steak  was  too  underdone  last  night,  I 
think.  It  gave  me  a  queer  feeling  over  my  heart 
an  hour  after  partaking  of  it,"  said  Diamond  one 
morning. 

"  Yes,  it  really  was  very  thoughtless  of  you, 
Kate.  My  digestion  suffered  too.  I  had  the 
most  unpleasant  dreams  about  mice  and  spiders." 

"  But  you  told  me  you  wished  it  underdone, 
ma'am." 

"  What  I  told  you  has  nothing  to  do  with  it," 
snapped  Lavinia;  "  and  I  won't  have  what  I  say 
thrown  up  at  me  like  that.  The  steak  upset  us 
both.  And  you  must  understand  that  in  future  I 
can't  have  my  sleep  disturbed  by  your  careless 


128  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

cooking."  There  was  a  pause,  and  as  Kate  did 
not  reply  she  continued,  "  Diamond,  my  dear, 
what  other  faults  did  we  find?  " 

"  I  made  a  note  of  several.  Here  are  three. 
There  was  too  much  white  sauce  on  the  cauli- 
flower, and  the  eggs  were  too  hard  this  morning. 
I  am  sure  they  were  boiled  for  four  minutes  in- 
stead of  three  and  three-quarters.  Oh,  and  I 
distinctly  smelt  the  dinner  cooking,  in  the  hall 
yesterday  afternoon." 

"  Yes,  that  was  most  trying  when  we  had  visi- 
tors. Ah,  and  there  was  something  else  I  wanted 
to  ask  you.  Now  I  remember.  You  certainly 
didn't  use  all  the  apples  for  the  tart  last  night." 

"  I  used  every  one." 

"  That's  quite  impossible.  You  surely  kept 
some  back.  Now  don't  contradict  me.  I  am 
confident  you  must  have  thrown  them  into  the 
corporation  bucket  or  used  them  for  some  purpose 
of  your  own.  In  either  case  it  was  very  wrong 
of  you."  Lavinia  launched  into  a  disquisition  on 
waste  in  war-time,  and  the  necessity  for  strict 
honesty  on  the  part  of  those  who  had  charge  of 
other  people's  property.  Kate  was  the  possessor 
of  an  equable  temperament  and  she  was  slow  to 
rouse,  but  it  is  questionable  whether  she  would 
have  remained  quiet  under  these  insinuations  if 
there  had  not  been  a  diversion  in  the  shape  of 
Ellen-,  who  entered  the  room  at  that  moment  and, 
looking  extremely  depressed  and  miserable  and 
complaining  of  dizziness  and  aches,  asked  if  she 
might  go  to  bed. 

The  Misses  Peacock  had  a  bloodthirsty  love  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  129 

life,  and  their  terror  was  extreme  at  the  thought 
of  infection.  So  Ellen  was  bundled  off  to  bed  and 
martial  law  was  proclaimed,  that  is  to  say,  no 
member  of  the  family  was  allowed  to  go  near  the 
infected  area,  her  bedroom;  but  it  did  not  occur, 
either  to  Lavinia  or  to  Diamond,  that  it  might  be 
advisable  for  Kate  to  sleep  elsewhere.  For  the 
time  being  the  latter  was  fully  occupied,  as  she  had 
to  wait  in  the  dining-room  besides  doing  her  own 
work,  and  to  make  matters  worse  there  were  two 
guests  for  dinner  that  day.  One,  a  certain  Mrs. 
Beddy,  a  middle-aged  lady  with  a  prim  mincing 
manner  of  speech,  after  discussing  food  in  war- 
time, proceeded,  while  Kate  was  handing  vege- 
tables, to  attack,  with  some  vigour,  the  servant 
problem.  "  Good  maids,"  she  announced,  "  come 
from  certain  counties,  of  that  I  am  convinced. 
Westmeath  has  splendid  parlour-maids,  but  I 
never  met  a  good  cook  who  was  born  and  bred 
there.  All  the  good  cooks  come  from  County 
Cork  or  Wexford;  and  as  for  kitchen-maids,  you 
couldn't  do  better  than  look  for  them  in  Kerry." 

"  Did  you  hear  of  the  dreadful  illness  our  maid 
Ellen  brought  into  the  house?  "  inquired  Lavinia. 

"  Yes,  Honor  told  me  she  had  bronchitis." 

"  It  was  really  too  bad,"  broke  in  Diamond. 
"  I  cross-questioned  the  girl  and  found  out  she 
had  been  sitting  on  the  grass  on  Howth  Cliffs  for 
the  whole  of  yesterday  afternoon  with  her  young 
man.  Wasn't  it  shocking?  We  thought  she  had 
gone  to  her  aunt's  funeral." 

"  I  think  it  was  nothing  short  of  disgraceful,  it 
was  treating  us  very  badly,"  Lavinia  exclaimed. 


130  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  Philandering  on  the  cliffs  like  that,  with  no 
thought  of  her  mistress  and  the  trouble  she'd  give 
her.  Think  of  the  risks  we  run  from  infection 
through  such  misbehaviour." 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,"  bleated  Juniper  timidly, 
"  you  forget  we  were  all  young  once.  We  must 
have  sympathy  with  the  young." 

Kate  nearly  dropped  the  blanc-mange,  so  sur- 
prised was  she  at  this  daring;  and  if  Miss  Dia- 
mond had  not  glared  at  her  at  that  moment  it  is 
possible  she  would  have  warmly  applauded  the 
sentiments  uttered. 

"  What  nonsense,"  barked  Diamond,  as  Kate 
left  the  room;  "Ellen's  common  sense  ought  to 
have  told  her  she  shouldn't  do  it." 

"  Of  course  the  world  is  quite  topsy-turvy," 
remarked  Mrs.  Beddy.  "  For  years,  even  before 
the  War,  maids  had  far  too  much  liberty,  and  got 
into  trouble  frequently  with  young  men." 

"  I  feel  a  stand  should  be  made  against  such 
licence,"  said  Lavinia;  "  and  so  it  has  been  my 
rule  never  to  allow  a  maid  out  for  an  evening  in 
the  week.  She  may  go  out  after  she  has  laid  the 
Sunday  supper  in  the  summer  if  she  is  in  by  eight; 
but  she  must  be  in  before  dark." 

"  Our  dear  papa,"  chimed  in  Honor,  "  always 
insisted  on  the  maids  filing  through  the  room  on 
Sunday  when  he  was  taking  supper.  If  they  came 
in  after  dark  he  would  throw  them  out  on  an 
hour's  notice.  Oh,  those  were  good  days." 

The  sisters,  as  was  always  the  case,  found  the 
theme  of  maid-servants  extremely  stimulating,  and 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  131 

Diamond  now  broke  into  rapid  speech,  a  joyful 
gleam  lighting  up  her  small  eyes : 

"  I  don't  believe  there'd  have  been  trouble  with 
Sinn  Feiners,  nor  would  there  have  been  any  Sinn 
Fein  rebellion  if  mistresses  had  united  and  refused 
to  allow  their  maids  out  in  the  evening.  It's  in 
these  idle  hours  they  get  into  mischief.  Oh, 
maids  shouldn't  be  allowed  to  get  uppish  in  any 
way;  and  they  certainly  should  not  be  permitted 
to  have  ideas  apart  from  their  work." 

"But  where's  Kate?"  grumbled  Diamond; 
"  Kate,  you're  very  slow.  Do  hurry  with  the 
cheese." 

The  latter  had  been  placing  certain  dirty  pud- 
ding-plates on  a  tray  just  outside  the  door  while 
the  interesting  theme  of  maids  and  their  outings 
was  being  unfolded.  She  had  stood  there  motion- 
less, her  breath  coming  and  going  quicker  than 
usual,  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  large  white  bowl  as  if 
its  shining  surface  had  hypnotised  her  into  com- 
plete immobility;  but  mentally  she  was  all  alive; 
and,  as  sentence  after  sentence  trickled  out  to  her, 
her  face  darkened  with  anger.  She  was  an  in- 
dependent woman,  doing  her  work  honestly  and 
efficiently,  and  they  wanted  to  turn  her  into  a 
shadow,  like  that  poor  snivelling  creature  in  bed 
downstairs.  A  natural  craving  for  freedom  of 
mind,  a  sturdy  singleness  of  spirit,  a  recognition 
of  her  standing  as  a  workwoman,  innate  in  Kate, 
had  been  still  more  developed  by  her  life  in  the 
States;  and  she  realised  now,  with  a  feeling  of 
repulsion,  that  these  women  wanted  to  reduce  her 


132  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

to  the  status  of  a  serf,  realised  the  worth  of  the 
dirty  insinuation  that  no  girl  could  talk  to  a  man, 
however  well  she  had  known  him,  or  go  out  with 
him  without  the  worst  happening.  Her  soul  was 
full  of  wrath  and  bitterness,  and  it  was  only  with 
a  great  effort  of  will  she  drove  herself  to  respond 
to  the  rasping  voice  from  the  dining-room,  and 
controlled  herself  so  successfully  during  the  re- 
mainder of  dinner,  that  not  even  the  watchful  eye 
of  Diamond  detected  any  change. 

Late  that  night,  when  the  work  of  the  day  was 
over,  Kate  drew  a  chair  up  to  the  kitchen  fire  and 
began  to  reflect  on  her  own  position.  She  had 
been  afraid  to  give  rein  to  her  thoughts  since  those 
bad  moments  outside  the  dining-room  door,  for  if 
she  had  not  gone  mechanically  about  her  work  she 
might  have  smashed  china  or,  in  a  storm  of  words, 
vented  her  wrath  upon  the  Misses  Peacock.  She 
pictured  to  herself  what  she  would  be  like  after  a 
few  years  spent  in  their  service,  and  the  image 
conjured  up  was  not  a  pleasant  one.  They  had 
ground  Ellen  down  slowly  and  surely  until  the  girl 
was  afraid  of  their  slightest  word;  a  glance  from 
Miss  Diamond,  the  mere  sound  of  Miss  Lavinia's 
voice,  made  her  start  up  with  a  frightened  look  of 
expectation,  an  order  from  them  made  her  scurry 
like  a  rabbit.  She  lived  in  a  continual  state  of 
anxiety  and  fear.  She  had  been  driven  to  lie  and 
to  tell  this  story  about  her  aunt's  funeral  in  order 
to  see  her  young  man.  There  could  be  nothing 
but  hypocrisy  and  deception  in  such  a  house.  It 
was  not  surprising  that  men  never  came  near  it, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  133 

and  that  policemen  did  not  frequent  the  neighbour- 
hood. 

There  was  one  remark  that  rankled  more  deeply 
than  any  other:  "  It  has  been  my  rule  never  to 
allow  a  maid  out  for  an  evening  in  the  week." 
Those  were  the  words  Miss  Lavinia  had  used, 
and  Kate  remembered  that  in  her  interview  at 
the  registry  office  Miss  Lavinia's  reply  had  been 
evasive  when  she  had  inquired  about  evenings  out. 
The  old  lady  had  not  been  straight  with  her  then; 
this  rule  was  not  in  the  contract,  as  it  were,  and  it 
meant  slavery.  None  of  Kate's  acquaintances 
were  free  except  in  the  evening.  If  she  submitted 
to  this  dictum  she  would  never  see  a  friend.  Tom 
Casey  was  on  duty  all  day,  and  had  written  to  her 
asking  her  to  fix  an  evening  on  which  they  could 
meet  and  have  a  talk.  There  could  be  no  meeting 
or  talk  now.  .  .  . 

It  seemed  as  if  the  Promised  Land  had  been 
very  near  to  her;  but  nevertheless  the  vision  of  it 
was  to  be  denied  her.  What  advantage  was  there 
in  living  in  Dublin  if  she  could  have  no  life  of  her 
own?  All  that  friendliness  and  feeling  of  home, 
home  in  the  old  days  when  people  were  plentiful, 
which  she  had  experienced  on  the  night  of  her 
arrival  in  Dublin,  would  be  of  no  use  whatever  to 
her  shut  up  in  a  kitchen  in  Clontarf.  Prisoners 
were  better  off,  for  at  least  they  were  not  lectured 
or  spied  on  continually.  She  would  go  back  to 
the  States,  she  vowed;  Ireland  was  no  place  for  a 
free  woman.  But  however  her  mind  raged  and 
reasoned  her  heart  would  not  follow  its  ruling. 


134  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  absence  of  hurry  that  gave  a  proper  dignity 
to  the  days,  the  voices  of  the  people,  their  manner 
of  speech,  their  method  of  life,  their  joking  and 
friendliness,  the  boys  she  knew,  were  all  links  in 
the  chain  that  bound  her.  Perhaps  there  is  no 
country  in  the  world  about  which  its  inhabitants 
can  be  so  sentimental  as  Ireland.  And  that  night 
Kate,  for  all  her  experience  of  America,  and  in 
spite  of  the  cosmopolitan  spirit  she  had  acquired 
there,  wove  her  own  romance  about  this  country 
and,  like  many  hundreds  of  others,  for  the  time 
being  confined  herself  in  the  garment  of  her 
weaving. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

'  You  have  treated  us  very  badly  by  giving  this 
sudden  notice  at  a  most  difficult  time,  and  of  course 
it  will  make  a  difference  in  the  character  I  write 
you." 

Kate  had  just  given  a  month's  notice,  and  Miss 
Lavinia,  after  the  first  moment's  amazement,  had, 
as  an  asp  raises  its  head  to  bite,  now  raised  her 
eyes,  fixed  them  on  her  cook  and  distilled  into 
speech  the  venom  of  her  feelings. 

'  Treating  you  badly,  ma'am !  "  was  the  cool 
response.  "  It  seems  you're  not  satisfied  with  my 
cooking.  You  were  saying  I'd  put  your  livers 
out." 

"  Most  certainly  the  food  hasn't  been  well 
cooked,  but  I  —  I'd  overlook  that  if  —  if  you'd 
stay,  Kate.  But," —  menace  crept  into  Lavinia's 
voice  and  she  scratched  viciously  with  a  pen  —  as 
if  it  were  a  portion  of  a  maid's  anatomy  —  a  piece 
of  innocent-looking  blotting-paper  that  lay  before 
her  —  "  but  remember  this.  If  you  go  I  can't 
write  you  a  good  character,  in  fact  I  can  assure 
you  it  will  be  a  very  indifferent  one.  For,  quite 
apart  from  this  extremely  inconvenient  notice  you 
have  given  me,  you  have  many  faults  which  I 
might  have  corrected  in  time.  Indeed,  as  it  is,  I 
consider  I  have  shown  far  too  much  patience  and 

135 


136  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

overlooked  a  great  many  vexatious  habits  of 
yours." 

"What  habits,  ma'am?" 

"  You  don't  take  corrections  in  a  seemly  way. 
You  have  a  cool  impudence  of  manner  which  I 
object  to  strongly." 

"  We  don't  suit,"  returned  Kate;  "  that's  sure. 
It's  much  better  for  me  to  be  going." 

"We  don't  suit!"  exclaimed  Miss  Lavinia; 
"you  mean  you  don't  suit;  and  it's  all  due  to 
your  want  of  training.  If  you'll  stay  I'll  make  a 
particular  point  of  noticing  your  faults,  and  I  am 
sure,  if  you  show  willingness,  you  will  improve 
very  much,  and  I  may  be  able  to  recommend  you 
later." 

"  I'm  afraid,  ma'am,  we'd  never  suit  each 
other,"  Kate  persisted.  "  I'd  best  be  going  this 
day  month." 

"  Then  it'll  be  all  the  worse  for  you.  You 
haven't  been  properly  trained,  and  if  you  leave 
us  now,  in  this  abrupt  way,  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
give  you  a  good  recommendation.  It  would  be 
deceiving  other  people  —  a  thing  I  abhor." 

"  No  recommendation !  Sure  that  doesn't 
frighten  me.  I'm  not  afraid  of  being  out  of  place. 
When  I  was  in  America  they  considered  my  cook- 
ing first-rate,  and  'tis  delicate  stomachs  the  Yanks 
have,  and  a  fine  taste  in  ating  and  drinking,  I  can 
tell  you.  Anyways  I  have  my  certificate  from  the 
Technical  School." 

Perhaps  it  was  the  unkind  reflection  on  her 
taste  in  food,  the  setting  up  of  a  superior  Yankee 
standard,  or  more  probably  it  was  the  realisation 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  137 

that  she  was  going  to  lose  this  excellent  cook  in 
spite  of  coercive  threats  that  made  the  lines  on 
the  old  lady's  face  tie  themselves  up  into  puckered 
knots,  and  only  slowly  untie  themselves  again  as 
she  hissed  out: 

"  How  dare  you  speak  to  me  like  this  .  .  . 
after  all  my  kindness  to  you,  after  all  the  pains 
I've  taken  in  correcting  you?  You're  a  most 
ungrateful  creature.  I  could  get  twenty  that  were 
better  than  you  :  but  I  wanted  to  help  you,  and  this 
is  the  way  you  throw  the  help  in  my  face !  " 

"This  day  month,  ma'am?"  inquired  Kate 
politely. 

"  Yes,  this  day  month ;  and  don't  expect  a  good 
character  from  me,  because  you  won't  get  it." 

"  Certainly,  ma'am." 

A  few  minutes  later,  after  she  had  listened  to  a 
further  dissection  of  her  pernicious  nature,  Kate 
swept  from  the  room  with  a  certain  stately  grace 
that  made  Miss  Lavinia  feel  small  and  undignified, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  had  had  the  last  word. 
Her  temper  was  of  such  specific  gravity  at  the 
moment  that  Juniper,  who  had  come  to  ask  her  if 
she  might  sit  out  in  the  garden  that  morning, 
viewed  her  only  from  the  door,  and  then  fled  from 
her  as  fast  as  she  could  hobble. 

Women  of  the  type  of  the  Misses  Peacock, 
mere  empty  vessels,  who  have  let  their  brains  lie 
fallow  all  their  lives,  who  have  never  made  the 
slightest  attempt  to  indulge  in  mental  processes 
of  any  description,  and  who  have  done  no  useful 
work,  grow  more  and  more  like  the  animal  as  age 
creeps  on  them.  Their  animality  takes  the  form 


138  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

of  a  large  and  preposterous  appetite;  they  become 
more  and  more  flesh  as  the  brain-cells  are  less  and 
less  used  and,  like  the  beast,  they  cannot  restrain 
themselves  when  they  see  food  and  will  eat  all 
before  them,  watching  each  other  for  their  share 
with  glistening,  hungry  eyes.  It  is  their  great 
interest  in  life,  and  the  discussion  of  it,  the  means 
by  which  it  is  procured  and  utilised,  is  more  vital 
and  absorbing  to  them  than  anything  else  on  earth. 
Kate  was  an  important  agent  in  this  respect,  and, 
as  in  reality  she  had  been  far  more  satisfactory 
in  her  cooking  than  the  long  series  of  cooks  that 
had  preceded  her,  Lavinia  felt  all  the  more  bitter 
at  the  prospect  of  losing  an  essential  element  in  the 
happiness  of  the  household.  Bitterness  with  her 
took  the  form  of  temper;  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
find  such  a  good  cook  again,  and  now  that  in- 
timidation had  failed,  that  Kate  had  refused  to  be 
caught  in  the  nets  spread  out  for  her,  she  was 
determined  to  wreak  vengeance  upon  her  victim, 
and  for  this  purpose,  after  some  savage  prodding 
of  the  blotting-paper  with  a  J  nib,  Diamond  was 
summoned. 

Theirs  was  a  fruitful  theme  —  the  ungrateful- 
ness of  the  lower  classes  —  and,  having  fully 
ventilated  it,  they  proceeded  in  the  white  heat  of 
their  wrath  to  devise  a  character  that  would  most 
certainly  retard  a  cook's  progress  in  finding  a  new 
place,  and  would  make  all  mistresses  look  askance 
at  her. 

Anger  begets  anger,  and  Kate's  feelings  were 
as  hot  as  theirs  as  she  worked  away  in  the  kitchen 
that  morning.  She  had  intended  to  give  her 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  139 

month's  notice  and  leave  them  peacefully,  without 
recriminations,  and  for  that  reason  had  been  par- 
ticularly quiet  and  polite  at  the  opening  of  her 
interview  with  Miss  Lavinia.  It  had  been  to  no 
purpose,  and  now  her  one  desire  was  to  annoy  her, 
to  wreak  vengeance  upon  her  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  all  those  unfortunates  who  had  suffered  at  her 
hands. 

The  trap  she  had  laid  in  order  to  secure  Kate 
and  keep  her  bound  to  her  was  contemptible ;  but 
worse  even  than  that  were  her  suspicions,  her  bad 
ideas  about  decent,  respectable  men.  At  all  costs 
she  should  be  taught  a  lesson  —  shown  at  any  rate 
that  she,  Kate,  did  not  care  a  snap  of  her  fingers 
for  the  old  lady's  theories  and  rules  about  the  male 
sex.  It  was  difficult  to  say  how  this  was  to  be 
done,  and  two  days  passed  before  illumination 
came,  which  it  did  most  appropriately  one  morn- 
ing, by  the  post.  Tom  Casey  wrote  on  an  ex- 
tremely ornate  picture  post  card  that  he  would  be 
passing  Strand  View  on  the  following  evening,  and 
would  be  glad  if  Kate,  as  she  could  not  come  into 
town,  would  slip  out  for  half  an  hour  and  take  a 
walk  with  him. 

Miss  Diamond  kept  the  key  of  the  letter-box, 
and,  having  carefully  studied  the  card,  handed  it 
to  her  sister  with  some  terse  comments.  Later, 
Lavinia  —  in  the  midst  of  a  discussion  on  mutton 
broth  and  the  methods  to  be  adopted  in  order  to 
make  it  thick  and  nourishing  —  suggested  to  Kate 
that  she  should  at  least  behave  respectably  during 
the  three  weeks  that  were  yet  to  run  before  they 
parted,  and  should  not  be  arranging  clandestine 


140  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

meetings  with  young  men.  When  Kate  protested 
that  she  had  arranged  no  meetings,  Diamond  ob- 
jected that  she  was  giving  a  bad  name  to  No.  3 
Strand  View,  and  bringing  the  house  into  disrepute 
at  the  post  office  by  the  mere  reception  of  these 
suggestive  post  cards,  and  further  hinted  darkly 
that  the  morals  of  the  postman  might  be  seriously 
impaired  in  this  way.  The  correspondence  must 
therefore  cease. 

Kate  took  this  reproof  more  calmly  than  was 
natural,  for  as  the  old  ladies  talked,  an  idea 
was  suggested  by  their  words,  an  idea  that  pleased 
her  vastly.  It  smoothed  away  many  difficul- 
ties. Why  had  she  not  thought  of  it  before? 
Reprisals  of  a  dramatic  nature  were  possible 
after  all. 

The  following  evening  she  was  sitting  placidly 
beside  the  range  trimming  a  hat  of  a  deep  and 
wonderful  yellow  shade,  which  she  had  christened 
"  the  gosling,"  and  in  which  she  admired  herself 
extremely,  when  there  came  a  ring  at  the  door. 
Ellen,  who  had  recovered  from  her  unfortunate 
illness,  jumped  up,  and  in  her  usual  half-scurrying, 
half-scared  way  proceeded  across  the  kitchen  with 
the  intention  of  answering  it.  Kate  called  her 
back,  and  when  she  came  vouchsafed  no  informa- 
tion, but  laid  down  the  gosling  and  began  to  tidy 
her  work-box. 

''  What  is  it  you're  wanting?  Don't  be  keeping 
me,"  piped  Ellen  uneasily.  "  Miss  Diamond  likes 
the  bell  answered  on  the  minute." 

"  What  a  hurry  you're  in  to  be  sure,"  Kate 
eyed  the  anaemic  girl  speculatively ;  "  but  I  daresay 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  141 

you  wouldn't  be  in  such  a  hurry  if  you  knew  who 
was  on  the  outside  of  the  door." 

"  On  the  outside  of  the  door?  "  Ellen  repeated 
vaguely;  "  d'you  mean — " 

"I  mean  that  1316  is  coming  to  see  me  to- 
night. And  I  know  that's  him,  there's  his  knock 
—  two  beats  on  the  door." 

"1316?"  Again  Ellen  repeated  Kate's 
words,  and  a  frightened,  furtive  look  that  was 
seldom  absent  from  her  eyes  crept  into  them  now. 
"What's  13  iB?" 

"  It's  Tom  Casey,  a  friend  of  mine.  That's 
his  number  in  the  force.  I'm  going  to  open  the 
door  and  bring  him  down  here  this  instant 
minute." 

"  Oh,  God,  Kate !  You  won't  be  bringing  him 
down  here?  " 

"And  why  not?  He's  a  nice  young  chap  — 
not  a  bare-faced  boy,  but  a  big  fellow  full  of  hair. 
Oh,  you'll  like  him,  Ellie."  Kate  crossed  the 
kitchen  quickly  making  for  the  stairs.  Ellie  fol- 
lowed her  with  arms  outstretched  in  appeal. 

"  For  the. love  of  God,  Kate,  don't  be  letting 
him  in.  You'll  have  me  destroyed.  Miss  Dia- 
mond will  ate  me.  She'll  send  me  away  without 
a  character.  Oh,  Jesus,  Mary  and  Joseph,  what 
will  I  do?  What  will  I  do?" 

Kate  disappeared.  Ellen  collapsed  into  a  chair, 
lying  there  for  a  minute  or  two  gasping.  Then 
at  the  sound  of  a  heavy  step  on  the  stairs  she  rose, 
and  like  a  hare  scurrying  from  its  form,  leaped 
across  the  kitchen  to  the  bedroom  door,  and 
slamming  it  behind  her,  plunged  under  the  bed. 


142  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  It's  fine  to  be  seeing  you  again,  Tom,  and 
you're  looking  grand." 

u  Indeed,  Kate,  you're  looking  more  than 
grand.  I  wouldn't  have  known  you.  Oh,  there's 
no  doubt  in  the  world  but  the  States  is  a  fine  place 
for  smartening  up  a  girl." 

"  Smartening,  indeed  1  Draw  up  now  to  the 
range  and  warm  yourself  while  I'm  wetting  the 
tea." 

1316  stretched  out  his  long  limbs  to  the  fire 
with  an  easy  grace,  and  twisting  up  his  beautiful 
black  moustache,  watched  Kate  with  a  pleasant 
smile  as  she  went  to  and  fro,  fetching  out  the  loaf, 
the  jam  and  the  tea-leaves  from  the  cupboard. 
She  was  apparently  not  watching  him,  and  yet  she 
took  in  all  his  proportions,  looking  at  him  from 
out  of  the  tail  of  her  eye.  He  had  not  yet  ac- 
quired that  weightiness  of  figure  for  which  the 
D.M.P.  is  noted,  but  he  was  certainly  a  perfectly 
made  policeman,  with  his  mighty  breadth  of  chest, 
thin  hips,  and  fine  carriage  of  head.  Kate  ad- 
mired particularly  his  curly  black  hair  and  lordly 
ease  of  manner.  No  criminal,  however  evil,  could 
upset  the  equanimity  of  such  a  man.  He  looked 
like  a  "  king  of  the  world  "  she  thought  to  herself, 
and  oh  it  was  good  to  have  a  man's  company 
again,  even  for  an  hour  or  two,  after  this  tedious 
sojourn  in  a  house  of  females. 

Certainly  fortune  had  been  kind  to  station  him 
in  Dublin,  he  would  look  very  well  walking  out 
with  any  woman.  In  the  old  days  he  had  been 
full  of  «ense,  and  could  express  himself  well  on 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  143 

politics,  agriculture,  dancing,  hurley-ball,  and  all 
the  topics  of  the  newspaper.  Kate,  like  many  of 
her  race,  loved  good  talk,  and  would  often  pause 
in  conversation,  searching  about  in  her  mind  for 
an  appropriate  image  or  picture.  She  liked  sug- 
gestive ideas,  and  objected  to  the  idle  chatter  of 
girls.  That  was  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  sight 
of  Tom  Casey  rejoiced  her  heart.  He  would 
possibly  bring  her  into  touch  with  other  members 
of  the  D.M.P.,  and  in  time  she  might  have  quite 
a  circle  of  male  acquaintances  in  Dublin,  and  could 
enjoy  to  the  full  the  pleasant  pastime  of  sensible 
conversation. 

Now  that  she  had  coloured  his  tea  and  sweet- 
ened it  for  him,  she  sat  down,  and  together  they 
discussed  the  girls  they  had  grown  up  with,  what 
had  become  of  them,  what  would  become  of  them, 
and  what  might  have  become  of  them.  Relatives 
were  an  interesting  topic,  and  Tom  gave  an  en- 
livening account  of  the  marriage  of  a  great-aunt  of 
his.  "  She  was  sixty  years  living,  and  as  soon  as 
she'd  buried  her  first  husband  she  took  up  with 
Henessy,  a  young  dark  lad,  just  budding  a 
moustache.  Oh,  that  wedding  was  after  rising 
great  gas  I  can  tell  you." 

"  It  used  to  be  easier  to  get  a  chap  in  the  country 
than  in  Dublin,"  commented  Kate. 

"  Ay,  indeed,  girls  is  scarce  in  the  country." 

"  Isn't  it  strange  to  go  back  and  see  little  boys 
that  used  to  be  going  to  school  great  big  chaps 
looking  for  girls?  " 

"  It  is  so.     But  sure  they  look  for  girls  very 


144  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

young  in  County  Cork.  They  start  at  sixteen  — 
going  to  all  the  gatherings  and  dances,  and  they'll 
take  any  old  thing." 

"  D'you  mind  Mrs.  Goggin?  "  inquired  Kate. 

"  I  do  not,"  was  the  reply. 

"  She  was  a  queer  little  woman  with  a  hundred 
pounds  and  a  fine  farm  of  land  over  against 
Rupera  mountain.  Like  an  old  witch  she  was. 
Oh,  you'd  be  afraid  of  her  if  you  saw  her,  you'd 
think  she  hadn't  combed  her  hair  for  six  years 
nor  washed  her  face.  You  couldn't  stomach  her. 
Well,  one  Dwyer,  a  grand  young  lad,  was  after 
coming  back  from  the  Boer  War  and  his  father 
wanted  him  married  and  spoke  to  the  old  woman. 
Would  you  believe  it,  she  refused  him  and  married 
an  old  fellow  with  money,  that  wore  a  swallow-tail 
coat  and  drank.  You'd  die  if  you  saw  the  two  of 
them." 

Having  suitably  disposed  of  Mrs.  Goggin  Kate 
and  1316  proceeded  to  discuss  the  situation  of 
the  world  in  general  with  much  enthusiasm,  the 
latter  explaining  in  a  few  lordly  phrases  its  com- 
plicated condition,  the  causes  that  had  led  up  to  the 
War,  the  attitudes  of  each  country  in  Europe 
towards  Germany,  the  food  problem,  the  methods 
whereby  an  allotment  could  be  made  profitable, 
the  state  of  Ireland,  the  U-boat  warfare,  and  the 
position  of  America.  There  was  nothing  in  the 
general  state  of  affairs  1316  could  not  make  plain; 
no  riddle  that  had  not  its  answer.  Kate  now  and 
then  made  some  shrewd  comments,  but  on  the 
whole  she  was  much  impressed  by  his  learning  — 
a  learning  culled  by  Tom,  after  much  diligent 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  145 

study,  from  the  columns  of  the  Herald  and  trans- 
lated into  his  own  vernacular,  to  which  were  added 
some  long  words  quite  incomprehensible  to  him- 
self, but  repeatedly  used  by  the  newspaper  man. 

They  made  Kate  stare  at  him  with  some  as- 
tonishment, for  he  had  not  been  so  remarkably 
bright  at  his  books  at  the  National  School.  After 
a  little  while  he  became  aware  of  the  stare,  and 
paused  in  the  middle  of  a  long  speech  about  the 
merits  of  onions  and  potatoes  grown  in  the  soil  of 
Dublin  city  to  inquire  why  she  looked  at  him  in 
that  "  queer  unnatural  way." 

"  God  knows,  I've  a  right  to  be  looking  at  you 
with  all  the  grammar  lepping  out  of  you." 

"Grammar!"  1316  gave  his  moustache  a 
satisfied  twist.  "  They  do  say  up  at  the  barracks 
I've  an  intellect." 

"  Oh  ay,  you'd  always  sense,  but  you've  book- 
learning  now,  and  it's  strange,  considering  the  way 
you  were  slapped  and  scolded  by  Mrs.  Duggan  at 
the  school  when  you  were  a  little  lad." 

"Ah,  begob,  I  was  lazy  in  them  days;  but 
there's  plenty  here  if  I'm  minded  to  use  it."  Tom 
tapped  his  forehead  significantly,  and  pursed  up  his 
lips  with  such  an  air  of  wisdom  Kate  was  quite 
overawed  and  felt  that  it  would  be  well  to  obtain 
his  learned  opinion  on  the  late  happenings  in  her 
life. 

"Would  you  give  me  an  advice,  Tom?"  she 
inquired  respectfully. 

"  An  advice?     To  be  sure  I  will." 

"  It's  about  Miss  Peacock." 

"She's  an  elderly  female,  I  believe?"      1316 


146  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

plucked  again  with  a  flourish  at  the  hair  on  his 
upper  lip. 

"  She  is  that." 

"  And  a  queer  sketch  into  the  bargain?  " 

"  The  queerest  that  ever  was.  She's  a  puss  on 
her  would  paralyse  a  snipe." 

"  I  see."  1316  gave  an  oracular  twist  to  his 
brows.  "  Now  I  know  where  I  am.  Tell  me 
what  she  is  after  doing  to  you." 

The  tale  was  of  considerable  length  —  a  whole 
pipeful  of  shag  was  consumed  and  the  bowl  of  the 
pipe  scraped  out  before  it  was  finished.  When 
Kate  finally  ceased  speaking  there  was  a  long 
pause,  during  which  the  bowl  was  refilled  and  the 
tobacco  patted  tidily  down  by  an  enormous  thumb. 
It  seemed  as  if  that  pause  would  never  come  to  an 
end,  never  would  sentence  be  pronounced. 

"  Freedom,  there's  nothing  like  freedom," 
murmured  1316  at  length  with  a  happy  sigh, 
emitting  a  long  twining  coil  of  smoke.  "  We  will 
bow  the  knee  to  no  oppressor,  as  the  Evening 
Mail  says;  and  says  I,  To  Hell  with  all  the  Miss 
Peacocks  that  were  ever  born  and  ever  will  be." 

The  words  were  uttered  so  impressively  and 
with  such  an  air  of  weighty  consideration  Kate's 
eyes  moistened  with  admiration  as  she  gazed  at 
the  great  man.  He  was  certainly  magnificent. 
There  was  nothing  he  could  not  face.  The 
Misses  Peacock  would  be  like  dirt  under  his  feet. 
What  a  pity  there  was  no  possibility  of  their  meet- 
ing. How  fine  it  would  be  to  see  them  quiver  and 
blench  before  him,  how  fine  to  make  them  feel  his 
iron  heel. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  147 

"  You're  too  soft  with  them,  Kate,"  continued 
Tom  after  another  impressive  pause.  "  You'd  a 
right  to  tear  them  for  speaking  to  you  that  way. 
No  character,  indeed!  Oh,  I'd  have  sent  them 
scooting  if  they'd  refused  me  a  character.  I 
wouldn't  stand  their  chat,  I  can  tell  you.  I'd  give 
them  the  rough  side  of  my  tongue;  I'd  make  them 
feel  me." 

"  Ah,  sure  it  wasn't  worth  my  while  to  be 
rising  a  row,"  responded  Kate  with  apparent  care- 
lessness, while  inwardly  she  glowed  with  pleasure. 
That  was  the  right  kind  of  talk  surely.  Here 
was  a  whok  man,  not  half  a  one  like  Eugene,  a 
man  who  was  afraid  of  no  one,  and  who  would  tell 
all  the  tyuants  in  the  world  what  he  thought  of 
them  right  up  to  their  very  face  and  then  go  his 
own  independent  way.  "  We  will  bow  the  knee  to 
no  oppressor."  What  wisdom  and  what  strength 
lay  behind  this  momentous  statement ! 

1316  was  now  properly  wound  up.  Silent  for 
hours  together  on  his  beat  he  was  quite  ready  and 
even  anxious  in  company  to  bear  the  burden  of 
conversation,  especially  when  it  turned  on  some 
elevating  theme  like  freedom  or  the  butchery  of 
the  oppressed.  And  so  his  tongue  went  tic-tac,  tic- 
tac  as  he  reviewed  in  turn,  with  many  kindly 
oaths,  all  the  tyrants  since  Cromwell. 

It  was  getting  late ;  but  neither  of  the  two  were 
aware  of  the  time,  and  Kate  was  enjoying  to  the  full 
the  satisfying  vision  of  a  whole  man  when  there 
came  the  sound  of  a  pad-pad  on  the  stone  stairs  and 
the  creak  of  the  kitchen  door.  Tom  gave  an  un- 
easy start,  and  he  had  good  reason  for  it. 


148  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

In  the  doorway  stood  a  sinister  figure  that  might 
have  come  from  beyond  the  world,  with  its  wrin- 
kled old  face,  its  half-bald  head  and  wicked  little 
eyes  that  peered  and  blinked  at  the  couple  by  the 
fire.  It  was  Diamond,  clad  in  her  father's  over- 
coat, bed  socks,  and  the  family's  bedroom  slippers. 
Absence  of  speech  made  her  seem  more  impressive, 
as  she  softly  advanced  to  the  kitchen  table.  Kate 
did  not  stir,  eyeing  her  with  a  certain  calm  pleas- 
ure. Tom  would  have  his  opportunity  after  all; 
it  was  worth  living  merely  to  see  these  two  face 
to  face. 

The  silence  brought  to  him,  however,  no  pleas- 
ant thoughts.  It  was,  on  the  face  of  it,  unen- 
durable, and  he  shook  out  of  himself,  "  I'd  best 
be  going,"  with  a  husky  choke  as  if  a  dry  crumb 
of  war  bread  had  lodged  in  his  vocal  cords. 

"  'Tis  herself,"  whispered  Kate ;  "  you'd  best 
stand  up  to  her  now  as  you  was  saying." 

1316  was  in  mufti,  and  perhaps  he  felt  the 
loss  of  his  uniform.  Anyway,  instead  of  accepting 
Kate's  invitation  he  retreated  with  more  haste  than 
skill,  dinting  his  back  against  a  dish-cover  that 
was  on  the  wall,  and  finally  sending  it  clattering  to 
the  ground.  He  stood  huddled  in  the  corner, 
abject  and  miserable,  all  the  erectness  gone  from 
his  figure,  and  even  the  curl  vanishing  from  his 
moustache.  It  was  quite  evident  that  no  dramatic 
pronouncement  on  freedom  was  to  be  expected 
from  him. 

;'  What  are  you  doing  here?"  inquired  Dia- 
mond, fixing  her  gaze  upon  this  dejected  figure. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  149 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  1316,  rubbing  his  back 
thoughtfully. 

"  Then  please  leave  my  property  alone."  The 
old  lady  pointed  a  condemnatory  finger  at  the  dish- 
cover  and  continued,  "  How  dare  you,  a  common 
man,  come  into  my  kitchen  in  the  dead  of  night  — 
a  vagabond  from  off  the  street!  Answer  me. 
What  are  you  doing  here?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am.  Excuse  me, 
ma'am.  It  was  a  mistake  —  a  wrong  number.  I 
got  lost  someways." 

'  You're  not  telling  the  truth.  You're  an  — 
an  accomplice  of  hers."  Diamond  wheeled  sud- 
denly round  upon  Kate,  and  shaking  her  head 
violently  at  her  continued  in  the  same  breath, 
"  This  is  disgraceful,  Kate  —  a  man  in  the  kitchen. 
How  dare  you !  " 

"  You  drove  me  to  it,"  Kate  replied  quietly. 

"  Now,  no  insolence.  You  must  leave  this 
house  at  once." 

"  I  won't  go  till  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Not  till  to-morrow  morning!  " 

"  Oh,  you  may  be  sure  I'll  go  then  —  no  fear." 

"  You'll  go  now,  this  instant."  Diamond  was 
trembling  with  rage.  "  I'll  call  a  policeman,  and 
I'll  have  you  and  this  man  removed  at  once." 

"  You  needn't  be  giving  yourself  so  much  trou- 
ble, ma'am.  Sure,  he  is  a  policeman."  With  a 
contemptuous  jerk  of  her  forefinger  Kate  indicated 
the  cowering  Tom. 

"  Then  I'll  take  his  number  and  report  him." 

"Where  will  you  get  it?"     Kate  stepped  be- 


150  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

tween  the  two,  her  voice  growing  louder  and 
firmer.  "  Let  me  tell  you,  Miss  Diamond,  I've 
had  enough  torment  and  heart-scald  from  you, 
and  this  is  to  be  the  end  of  it.  I'll  not  march  out 
of  this  place  till  to-morrow  morning,  but  thank 
God  I'll  march  out  of  it  then." 

"  You'll  go  to-night,"  repeated  Diamond.  "  I 
can't  have  a  sinful  woman  like  you  sleeping  in  the 
same  room  as  that  innocent  girl  Ellen." 

"  That's  fine  talk,"  returned  Kate,  who  was 
thoroughly  roused  by  this  time.  "  I'll  go  to-mor- 
row and  no  sooner.  So  you'd  better  spare  your 
breath.  It's  worse  than  living  in  a  prison  never 
to  see  friends.  I've  as  good  a  right  to  see  mine 
as  you've  a  right  to  see  yours.  You  wouldn't  give 
me  an  evening  out,  so  I'd  to  invite  him  in."  She 
turned  to  Tom  again,  but  he  was  no  longer  behind 
her. 

It  had  so  happened  that  for  the  first  time  since 
he  had  joined  the  force  1316  found  himself  not 
on  the  side  of  law  and  order.  It  was  an  undigni- 
fied and  rather  terrifying  position  for  a  man  with 
his  years  of  service;  and  the  more  he  had  looked 
at  Diamond  the  more  fear  had  grown  upon  him. 
The  uncontrollable  impulse  of  flight  had  seized 
him,  and  as  lightly  and  deftly  as  any  hunted 
criminal  he  had  tiptoed  out  of  the  kitchen,  wisely 
extricating  himself  from  an  untenable  position, 
just  as  the  battle  was  developing  between  the  two 
angry  women. 

Kate,  who  had  hoped  perhaps  to  receive  some 
help  from  him,  was  not  deterred  by  his  absence 
from  further  speech.  She  proceeded  calmly  and 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  151 

methodically  to  analyse  her  employers'  character, 
making  pungent  comment  on  certain  little  idiosyn- 
crasies of  theirs  —  such  as  hostility  and  distrust  of 
any  male  who  incautiously  ventured  near  the 
house,  their  ideas  of  freedom,  their  belief  in  the 
divine  right  of  employers,  and,  finally,  their  sense 
of  the  dignity  of  the  Peacocks  of  Peacocksville. 
Not  a  feather  was  left  in  the  family's  expansive  tail 
by  the  time  Kate  thought  fit  to  pause  —  a  pause 
brought  about  by  the  sudden  retreat  of  Diamond 
to  the  kitchen  door. 

'  You're  getting  extremely  violent,"  the  old 
lady  snarled  huskily,  fight  still  in  her  eye.  "  I'm 
going  to  call  a  policeman  now,  and  I  shall  get 
him  to  put  you  out  at  once.  Do  you  understand? 
You're  going  straight  out  of  the  house." 

Kate,  folding  her  arms  and  straightening  her 
tall  figure,  gazed  down  at  the  crumpled  old  woman, 
and  remarked,  not  unkindly: 

"  Well,  maybe  you've  twenty  years  to  live;  but 
may  the  Almighty  God  take  you  as  short  as  you 
have  taken  me  to-night." 

Diamond  did  not  wait  to  listen  to  any  further 
wishes  that  might  hurry  her  before  her  time  into 
a  better  land.  She  sped  up  the  stairs,  threw  on  a 
few  clothes  with  Lavinia's,  assistance,  and  hastened 
out  into  the  night  in  search  of  another  member 
of  the  D.M.P.  In  a  short  while  she  returned  with 
a  stout  young  policeman  of  weighty  proportions 
and  a  wavering  spirit.  The  tale  of  the  night's 
disturbance,  which  was  soon  to  become  an  epic  in 
the  Peacock  family,  had  already  been  told  to  him 
three  times,  and  on  each  occasion  in  a  more  highly 


15S  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

coloured  way;  it  was  no  wonder  therefore  that 
resolution  oozed  from  him,  and  that  he  halted 
limply  on  the  door-mat. 

"  All's  quiet,  ma'am,"  he  said,  arching  the  lobe 
of  his  ear  with  his  hand,  an  expression  of  simu- 
lated intentness  on  his  fat  comfortable  face.  "  I 
don't  hear  a  sound." 

"  She's  plotting  then,"  said  Diamond  darkly. 
"We'd  better  not  delay.  It's  half-past  ten  al- 
ready." 

"  Let  her  cool  herself,  ma'am,  let  her  cool  her- 
self," the  young  man  entreated.  "  Cooks  is  often 
a  bit  cracked  and  queer.  Their  brains  get  dis- 
turbed like  with  the  heat  of  the  fire ;  but  they  cool 
very  quick,  and  it's  better  leave  them  be  —  oh,  far 
better." 

When  Diamond  reached  the  kitchen,  her  re- 
luctant companion  still  with  her,  and  still  protest- 
ing, the  place  was  in  darkness,  and  Kate  was  not 
there,  having  apparently  retired  to  rest.  Under 
the  circumstances  it  scarcely  seemed  decent  to  re- 
move her  forcibly.  And  a  little  later  a  second 
member  of  the  force,  having  made  some  sage  re- 
marks on  the  cooling  and  heating  properties  of 
cooks,  and  the  methods  to  be  adopted  in  order  to 
slacken  the  furnace,  retired  from  3  Strand  View 
with  the  comfortable  feeling  of  having  done  his 
duty  admirably. 

Kate  had  not  gone  to  bed.  She  was  sitting  in 
the  darkness  of  her  bedroom,  a  little  disappointed 
and  regretful  now  that  the  heat  of  the  battle  was 
past,  and  she  could  reflect  upon  it.  She  did  not 
regret  anything  she  had  said  —  it  was  all  well  said 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  153 

—  but  she  did  regret  the  fact  that  1316,  in  spite 
of  his  great  knowledge  of  the  world,  his  size  and 
impressive  manner,  his  personal  charm,  was  not  a 
whole  man  after  all.  He  was  like  others,  nice 
lads  many  of  them,  and  great  company  and  great 
entertainment;  but  he  was  not  the  man  she  wanted, 
the  man  she  had  been  looking  for,  the  man  she 
could  admire. 


CHAPTER  IX 

KATE  was  back  at  Madame  Cooney's  "  genteel  and 
commodious  lodgings,"  and  was  sitting  in  the 
dingy  little  parlour  relating  to  her  landlady  the 
tale  of  her  life  with  the  Misses  Peacock,  and  with 
a  certain  unassuming  pride  laying  special  emphasis 
on  that  last  dramatic  scene  which  had  closed  the 
episode,  and  out  of  which  Kate  had  come  —  in  her 
own  estimation  —  so  gloriously,  with  none  of  her 
character  gone.  For  if  1316  had  not  visited  her, 
and  she  had  not  spoken  her  mind  to  Miss  Dia- 
mond, she  would  have  been  dissatisfied  and 
ashamed,  feeling  that  her  character  was  weak,  and 
that  she  had  lost  a  portion  of  that  precious  inde- 
pendence of  soul  she  valued  so  highly.  Madame 
Cooney,  however,  took  quite  a  different  view  of 
the  case.  Sighing  heavily,  this  wan  creature  put 
down  one  of  the  interminable  red  flannel  petti- 
coats she  was  sewing  for  her  daughter,  and  made 
the  following  pronouncement: 

"  You're  ruined,  Miss  Carmody.  What  mis- 
tress or  what  hotel-keeper  itself  would  look  at 
you  now,  and  you  without  a  character  from  your 
last  place.  You  might  as  well  go  and  dig  a  grave 
and  bury  yourself  at  once.  They'll  think  you  not 
decent  and  respectable,  and  they  hearing  the  way 
it  is.  Oh,  men  are  that  treacherous !  Tom 
Casey  had  no  right  to  land  you  into  that." 

154 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  155 

"  Sure  'twas  I  landed  him  into  it,  the  poor  boy, 
and  he  got  the  fright  of  his  life." 

"  Well,  anyway,  you're  destroyed  now,  and 
there'll  be  no  mending  you.  You'll  make  no  liv- 
ing in  Dublin  without  a  character.  That's  sure." 

"  Ah,  what  talk  you  have !  "  exclaimed  Kate 
impatiently;  "  a  good  cook  will  pick  a  living  in  any 
place  where  there's  eating  and  drinking." 

"  Not  in  Dublin.  They're  afeared  of  a  cook 
with  a  young  man  after  her.  Oh,  Miss  Carmody, 
you're  a  fool  to  have  a  young  man  of  your  own. 
Any  mistress  that  knowed  it  would  eat  the  nose  off 
your  face." 

"  He's  not  my  young  ma«n,  and  he  isn't  after 
me,  and  you  have  no  more  sense  or  reason  than  a 
hatching  goose,"  Kate  replied  indignantly,  and 
left  the  room  as  Madame  Oooney  began  to  snuffle 
in  a  distressing  manner.  It  was  partly  from 
genuine  grief  because  of  the  epithet  hurled  at  her, 
and  partly  from  the  red  flannel  fluff  that  floated 
up  her  nose.  Owing  to  the  weight  of  the  material 
on  her  lap  she  could  not,  without  losing  the  po- 
sition of  the  hem  she  stitched,  reach  down  to  the 
corner  of  her  apron,  and  was  therefore  condemned 
at  the  best  of  times  to  a  spasmodic  sniff  whenever 
these  garments  had  to  be  manufactured. 

Two  months  passed  and  Kate  began  to  believe 
that  Madame  Cooney's  prophecy  was  a  true  one, 
for  she  could  find  no  employment  it  was  possible 
to  accept.  The  matron  at  the  registry  office  had 
received  an  account  of  her  misdoings  from  Miss 
Peacock,  and  therefore  viewed  her  unfavourably, 
and  was  not  inclined  to  press  her  services  upon 


156  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

clients.  She  was  afraid  she  would  have  to  leave 
Dublin  and  seek  work  elsewhere;  and  she  had 
planned  out  her  life  in  this  city,  and  it  was  to  be 
a  pleasant  one  spent  with  an  understanding  mis- 
tress who  cherished  no  venomous  feelings  towards 
the  male  sex.  It  was  hard  to  have  to  give  up 
that  plan  and  take  again  the  only  sure  road,  the 
road  across  the  seas. 

She  tried  to  avoid  thinking  of  this,  but  one 
evening  her  courage  failed  her,  and  the  shadow  of 
regret  and  disappointment  filled  her  heart.  There 
was  to  be  no  future  for  her  in  Dublin  after  all, 
there  was  no  room  for  her  here  with  her  indepen- 
dent ways.  This  was  the  fortieth  time  she  walked 
along  the  quay  on  her  way  to  her  lodgings  without 
any  change  in  her  circumstances. 

A  soft  orange  sunset  floated  before  her,  and 
she  noticed  how  it  faded  and  deepened,  colouring 
the  grey  buildings  in  the  west.  She  loved  bright 
colours  at  any  time,  and  she  had  seen  these  sunsets 
fade  and  pass  each  night  for  the  last  week  as  she 
returned  weary  and  discouraged  from  the  office. 
They  always  revived  her  spirits;  they  gladdened 
her  heart  as  well  as  her  eyes  with  their  hopeful 
promise ;  and  she  had  become  quite  fond  of  them. 
Ah,  she  was  fond  of  the  old  dirty  town  -too  and 
of  the  careless  life  that  flowed  through  its  streets. 
Whatever  happened  she  assured  herself,  even  in 
that  moment  of  depression,  she  would  hold  on  and 
not  allow  herself  to  be  driven  from  it  to  the  States 
again. 

Madame  Cooney  was  sitting  in  her  parlour 
brooding  over  the  remnants  of  an  old  meal  when 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  157 

Kate  entered  it.  She  was  in  an  exalted  state  of 
melancholy,  and  now  and  then  imbibed  cold  tea 
poured  out  from  a  pot,  whose  contents  had  been 
made  two  hours  before.  When  she  heard  there 
was  no  news  of  a  place  she  fixed  a  watery  eye  upon 
her  victim  and  proceeded  to  make  various  remarks 
which  were  intended  to  be  of  a  consoling  and  sym- 
pathetic nature. 

"  I'm  sorry  for  you,  Kate,  in  the  flower  of  your 
age  to  come  to  this.  Oh,  it'll  be  downhill  — 
downhill  all  the  time.  You'll  end  by  having  to 
take  charing,  and  you'll  be  thankful  if  you  can  get 
it.  Oh,  soon  you'll  be  nothing  but  the  remains  of 
old  decency." 

"Will  you  leave  me  alone?  I  don't  want  to 
be  talking  of  myself,"  Kate  replied  curtly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  blame  you,  but  you're  very  quick 
with  your  tongue,"  the  other  returned  lachry- 
mously.  "  Anyway,  I've  a  message  for  you.  My 
cousin,  Molly  Mulquiney,  was  here  this  evening. 
She's  in  service  with  Mrs.  Barry  and  Mrs.  Barry 
is  wanting  a  cook  badly.  So  I  was  to  tell  you 
to  go  straight  to  Hatch  Street  when  you  come  in." 

"Straight  to  Hatch  Street!"  Kate  repeated. 
"  That's  news.  And  you  was  saying  I  was  going 
downhill.  Glory  be,  woman,  what  lamentations 
you  make  about  nothing  at  all.  I'll  be  on  the 
crest  of  the  mountain  to-night." 

"  I'm  thinking  Mrs.  Barry  won't  look  at  you 
and  she  hearing  your  story." 

"  Ah,  she  will,  right  enough." 

"  And  if  she  does  take  you,  haven't  I  more 
reason  to  make  lamentations?  The  room  upstairs 


158  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

will  be  empty,  and  I'll  be  losing  good  money  down. 
Oh,  it's  a  hard,  hard  world.  I'm  sure  I'll  never 
get  a  tenant  again." 

Kate  did  not  wait  for  the  accompanying  snuffle, 
but  made  off  for  Hatch  Street  at  once.  It  took 
her  some  little  time  to  find  the  house,  as  she  had 
forgotten  to  ask  Madame  Cooney  for  the  number. 
When  she  found  it  eventually  the  door  was  opened 
by  a  pretty  girl  with  curly  brown  hair  and  a  soft 
pink  complexion.  She  was  as  fresh  as  a  spring 
flower  in  the  hedges,  and  showed  white  teeth  when 
she  smiled,  speaking  in  a  pleasing  variety  of  the 
Dublin  accent. 

"  You're  Kate  Carmody,"  she  said.  "  Hannah 
Cooney  is  after  telling  me  about  you.  Come  this 
way,  please." 

Kate  was  pleasantly  impressed  by  the  house  and 
also  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Barry.  She  was  a 
little  woman,  with  a  pale  face  and  black  hair  and 
eyes.  Her  dress  was  neat  and  trim,  and  there  was 
a  frankness  in  her  glance  that  inspired  confidence. 
Her  pallor,  her  regular  features,  and  her  pretty 
mouth  reminded  Kate  of  a  certain  American  type. 
Her  whole  appearance  was  decidedly  American 
and  brought  back  memories  of  New  York;  yet  she 
was  Celtic  to  the  finger-tips;  the  tones  of  her  voice 
were  unmistakably  Irish  and  would  have  betrayed 
her  nationality  in  any  part  of  the  world. 

After  ten  minutes'  conversation  they  reached 
the  point  when  it  was  necessary  to  relate  the  tale 
that  had  proved  a  stumbling-block  so  often,  the 
tale  of  that  last  evening  at  the  Peacocks.  Kate 
told  it  simply,  not  colouring  it  in  any  way,  nor 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  159 

excusing  herself.  And  when  the  last  word  had 
been  uttered  she  looked  anxiously  across  at  Mrs. 
Barry  expecting  to  see  the  usual  frown  and  to  feel 
the  usual  chill  of  manner  that  always  followed  the 
relation  of  that  story.  To  her  immense  surprise 
the  little  woman  greeted  it  with  the  glimmer  of 
a  smile. 

"  I  know  the  Miss  Peacocks,"  she  remarked 
meditatively.  "  I  quite  understand." 

Something  in  her  tone  of  voice  made  Kate 
interrupt  her  eagerly.  "  I  think  if  you'd  give  me 
a  trial,  ma'am,  you'd  find  we'd  suit.  You'd  suit 
me  and  I'd  suit  you." 

"  Well,  I  can  only  offer  you  eighteen  pounds  a 
year  and  your  board  wages  as  I  told  you,  but," 
a  twinkle  came  into  Mrs.  Barry's  eyes,  "  you  may 
have  your  friends  in  in  the  evening.  I've  no 
objection.  I  quite  understand  you  may  want  to 
see  a  man  occasionally.  Then  by  all  means  see 
him  comfortably  in  the  kitchen  if  you've  finished 
your  work." 

Kate  greatly  desired  to  step  forward  and  wring 
this  little  woman  by  the  hand,  which  was  her 
method  of  expressing  emotion  and  a  warm  regard. 
However,  she  checked  the  impulse,  but  she  felt  at 
one  with  Mrs.  Barry  and  was  ready  to  scrub  in- 
numerable floors,  wash  linen,  make  beds  and 
dresses  for  her,  dress  her  hair,  and  perform  nu- 
merous other  functions  not  strictly  within  the 
province  of  a  cook. 

Not  to  object  to  a  man  in  the  kitchen  occasion- 
ally was  an  amazing  instance  of  tolerance  on  the 
part  of  an  employer.  Such  tolerance  was  uncanny, 


160  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  certainly  not  to  be  expected  after  the  many 
disappointments  at  the  registry  office.  At  best 
Kate  had  hoped  for  some  generosity  with  regard 
to  evenings  out  when  it  would  be  possible  to  meet 
friends  occasionally  and  have  a  life  of  one's  own. 
Xo  be  able  to  entertain  them  on  the  premises,  offer 
them  a  cup  of  tea  and  have  a  chat,  was  a  delightful 
prospect,  opening  up  vistas  of  undreamt-of  happi- 
ness. What  did  the  difference  of  twelve  pounds  a 
year  in  wages  matter  compared  to  such  freedom. 

It  was  with  a  light  heart  and  a  serene  confidence 
in  the  future  Kate  packed  up  her  belongings  and 
departed  from  Madame  Cooney's  lodgings  a  week 
after  her  interview  with  Mrs.  Barry. 

A  house  is  very  often  the  expression  of  the  per- 
sonality of  the  woman  who  reigns  in  it.  A  man 
can  only  modify  that  expression  by  means  of  his 
purse.  He  can,  through  stinginess,  injure  it  and 
cramp  it,  or,  if  the  personality  be  a  common  one, 
by  over-lavishness  perhaps  encourage  the  flower 
of  vulgarity  to  burst  forth  into  full  bloom ;  but  he 
cannot  utterly  destroy  the  expression  of  his  wife's 
personality.  It  will  inevitably  be  written  large 
upon  the  house  as  was  the  case  in  Hatch  Street. 

Mrs.  Barry  was  both  charming  and  good- 
natured,  with  a  love  of  pretty  things  for  their  own 
sake.  So  her  rooms  were  pretty,  uncommon  in 
appearance  and  quite  unlike  any  Kate  had  ever 
seen  before.  They  were  as  different  to  the  Misses 
Peacock's  shabby  wilderness  of  ornaments  and 
photographs  as  the  black  race  is  different  to  the 
white.  No  large  sums  of  money  had  been  ex- 
pended on  them,  for  the  Barrys  were  badly  off,  yet 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  161 

they  were,  as  Molly  expressed  it,  "  fit  to  be  lived 
in  by  a  queen." 

Certainly  Kate,  if  she  had  been  personally  con- 
sulted, would  have  liked  more  colour  in  them. 
She  thought  a  bright  red  paper,  with  a  bold  pattern 
of  monstrous  flowers  on  it,  would  have  made  the 
drawing-room  look  cosier  than  a  plain  fawn-col- 
oured wall.  However,  she  consoled  herself  with 
the  fact  that  Mrs.  Barry  would  look  very  well 
against  that  wall  in  a  scarlet  velvet  tea-gown  with 
brilliant  yellow  embroidery  splashed  over  it;  and 
she  decided  to  suggest  it  to  her  when  they  were 
better  acquainted,  and  perhaps  offer  to  make  it  for 
her. 

Whatever  the  drawbacks  of  the  drawing-room, 
the  kitchen  was  all  that  could  be  desired,  with 
plenty  of  pots  and  pans,  and  an  area  gate,  which 
is  of  very  great  importance  to  a  house  in  Dublin, 
and  might  almost  be  described  as  the  key  to  the 
situation.  For  it  is  a  direct  means  of  communica- 
tion with  the  outer  world,  and  a  consequent  con- 
venience when  visitors  are  expected.  Besides,  it 
is  far  simpler  to  climb  the  steps  to  the  area  gate 
and  view  the  street  from  this  point  of  vantage  of 
an  evening,  to  count  the  cats  and  the  neighbours 
wandering  by,  and  to  chat  with  a  passing  friend, 
than  to  do  so  from  the  hall  door,  where  one  is 
liable  to  be  interrupted  by  members  of  the  house- 
hold and  perhaps  be  caught  into  complications 
with  visitors  to  the  drawing-room. 

The  household  itself  was  easy  to  work  with, 
and  a  quiet  one.  There  were  three  children,  two 
boys  and  a  girl,  the  property  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 


162  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Barry.  Mr.  Barry  was  a  distinguished  scholar, 
who  spent  most  of  the  day  in  his  study,  and  only 
in  the  evenings  emerged  from  it  diffidently  to  meet 
his  friends.  He  was  well  known  in  the  world  of 
letters,  and  had  many  acquaintances.  A  great 
number  of  men  visited  him,  and  Kate  had  great 
respect  for  her  mistress  because  of  her  success  with 
them,  and  because  of  the  opinions  she  expressed. 
For  she  had  no  fancy  for  a  petticoat,  and  openly 
confessed  to  a  taste  for  men's  company,  and  a 
sense  of  their  entire  superiority  as  regards  enter- 
tainment and  social  attractions.  But,  in  spite  of 
a  taste  for  society,  she  busied  herself  about  her 
house,  and  worked  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  the 
two  maids.  She  could  clean  stair  rods  and  brasses 
more  effectively  than  any  one  living,  and  had  a 
wickedly  observant  eye  for  dust.  She  inspired  a 
sense  of  comradeship,  a  feeling  of  loyal  co-opera- 
tion that  made  both  Kate  and  Molly  feel  equally 
responsible  for  the  successful  steering  of  the 
household  through  the  bad  times.  Books  do  not 
make  the  pot  boil  merrily  in  days  of  war.  Sav- 
ings had  to  be  effected,  and  there  were  many  anx- 
ious consultations  between  this  competent  author- 
ity on  stair  rods  and  brasses  and  her  cook  as  to  the 
methods  whereby  fifteen  shillings  can  be  made  to 
buy  a  pound's  worth  of  goods.  Kate's  mind  was 
full  of  ideas  in  this  respect,  and  she  explained  to 
Mrs.  Barry  how  the  butcher,  through  the  assur- 
ance of  regular  custom,  may  be  beguiled  into  sup- 
plying meat  at  a  lower  rate;  how  the  grocer  can 
be  coaxed  into  giving  a  modicum  of  tea  when  a 
famine  in  that  beverage  is  threatened  and  yet  not 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  163 

put  on  his  price;  how  much  cheaper  and  more 
nourishing  beef  sausages  are  than  pork;  how  the 
fishmonger  may  be  persuaded  to  sell  the  bits  of 
fish  left  over  on  Friday  evening  at  a  reasonable 
price  for  the  purpose  of  constructing  a  compara- 
tively cheap  fish  pie  for  Saturday's  dinner;  and 
finally,  how  certain  shops  made  a  specialty  of  a 
certain  article,  selling  it  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  else- 
where, and  must  be  discovered  and  patronised  ac- 
cordingly, but  only  in  the  one  particular  line. 

All  these  matters  require  skill  and  wisdom,  and 
not  a  little  tenacity  of  purpose ;  no  amateur  house- 
keeper should  attempt  such  difficult  feats,  but  Kate 
was  a  professional  buyer,  she  could  tell  even  in  the 
chaos  of  prices  the  just  value  of  each  article  to  a 
nicety,  and  she  could  read  the  dark  secrets  packed 
away  in  the  shopkeeper's  mind,  and  if  necessary 
challenge  -him  with  them  and  bring  him  to  terms. 
Her  mistress  was  only  too  glad  to  get  her  to  do  the 
household  shopping,  and  she  thoroughly  appreci- 
ated this  particular  duty  which  necessitated  a  walk 
abroad  nearly  every  morning,  the  perusal  of  vari- 
ous shop  windows,  and  the  exercise  of  her  wits. 

Life  for  Kate  became  again  coloured  with  ad- 
venture, that  greatest  of  all  adventures  —  the  play 
and  interplay  of  human  beings,  and  the  days  passed 
swiftly  and  pleasantly  by. 


CHAPTER  X 

MOLLY  was  of  an  entirely  different  mould  and 
make  to  Kate.  She  was  timid  and  shy;  she  would 
blush  for  no  reason  whatever;  the  most  insignifi- 
cant allusion  to  herself  made  her  colour  up.  In 
every  respect  she  was  of  a  softer  nature  than  her 
companion.  At  first  sight  she  appeared  to  resem- 
ble her;  they  were  almost  the  same  height, 
and  each  had  good  colour,  but  Molly  had  not  that 
stateliness  of  carriage  that  always  marked  Kate  as 
of  a  race  apart,  and  Molly  was  extremely  pretty 
whereas  Kate  was  merely  good-looking.  The 
former  was  town-bred  and  knew  no  land  save  the 
soil  of -Dublin  city.  Her  innocence  was  extreme 
and  her  knowledge  of  the  world  and  the  male  so 
minute  that  Kate  labelled  her  "  a  greenhorn  "  be- 
fore they  had  been  two  days  in  the  house  together, 
and  endeavoured  to  instil  into  her  some  broad 
general  precepts  that  are  efficacious  in  the  treat- 
ment of  this  rather  important  being.  The  two 
women  matched  each  other  very  well,  and  gen- 
erally Kate  ruled  save  when  there  was  a  spring 
cleaning  or  when  Molly's  nerves  gave  way  and  she 
flew  into  a  temper.  At  such  a  crisis  Kate,  who  was 
infinitely  the  stronger  of  the  two,  used  to  stretch 
her  out  on  the  kitchen  table  and  tickle  her  until  she 
had  screeched  all  the  breath  out  of  her  body.  If 
the  patient  did  not  even  then  respond  to  this  gentle 

164 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED     .       165 

massage  and  remained  sullen  Kate  surrendered  to 
her  rule  until  such  time  as  she  regained  her  normal 
equilibrium. 

Molly  suffered  from  nerves  and  small  ailments. 
She  had  had  to  go  to  hospital  once  for  an  opera- 
tion, and  the  quantities  of  ether  imbibed  by  her 
then  had  left  a  deep  impression  on  her  mind.  Her 
mysterious  gusts  of  rage  were  to  be  accounted  for 
by  this  sweet  sickening  poison,  which  she  believed 
still  ran  riot  in  her  blood.  "  Sure  the  aether  went 
to  me  head,"  was  her  invariable  apology, 
"  'twasn't  my  fault  at  all."  Indeed  such  a  slight 
disturbance  as  occasional  eruptions  of  temper 
seemed  to  Molly  a  matter  for  deep  thankfulness, 
for  she  believed  that  for  seven  years  after  an  op- 
eration accompanied  by  ether  the  patient  was  liable 
to  fits  of  insanity.  Madame  Cooney  had  known 
scores  of  such  cases  and  frequently  warned  her 
cousin  that  she  would  probably  be  incarcerated 
for  some  short  period  of  her  life  in  an  asylum. 

A  feeling  for  order  is  born  in  us  and  can  rarely 
be  manufactured  if  the  instinct  is  not  latent  in  us. 
There  is  no  real  cure  for  the  eye  that  receives  no 
irritable  impression  from  chaos,  the  eye  which  is, 
on  the  whole,  stimulated  by  confusion.  Kate  was 
the  soul  of  disorder  whereas  Molly  was  the  soul  of 
order.  But  Kate  was  not  a  victim  of  moods,  her 
temperament  was  equable  and  self-contained.  On 
the  other  hand,  Molly's  temperament  was  quite 
unsystematic,  quite  without  order;  it  made  rushes 
at  things  like  a  wild  colt  frolicking  in  a  field,  and 
on  occasions  needed  a  steady  hand  to  guide  it. 
There  were  moments  when  Molly  would  complain 


166  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

of  being  jaded  and  that  she  could  not  support  the 
stairs,  and  then  the  house  was  filled  with  her  sighs, 
and  little  jobs  necessary  to  perfect  comfort  in  a 
house  were  overlooked.  Yet  she  was  in  other 
moods  a  marvel  to  work  and  a  wonder  at  that 
great  crisis  of  the  year,  the  spring  cleaning.  Dur- 
ing this  critical  period,  when  the  house  runs  water 
and  soap,  when  the  whole  household  is  suspended 
in  air  as  it  were  and  man  can  find  no  place  upon 
which  to  rest  the  sole  of  his  foot,  she  would  move 
the  heaviest  furniture  incredible  distances  without 
a  murmur,  she  would  clean  and  sweep  ceaselessly 
and  was  always  in  the  thick  of  the  fray  beating  out 
of  existence  the  last  least  speck  of  dirt  and  grit. 
Whereas  Kate,  whenever  possible,  would  retire 
to  the  dimmest  confines  of  the  kitchen  or  the  cellar 
and  remain  there  until  all  was  over.  Once  she 
was  quite  sure  the  dust  had  been  laid  for  another 
year  she  would  come  out  placid  and  serene,  while 
Molly,  heated  and  disturbed  in  mind  and  temper, 
would  sink  into  the  old  chair  by  the  fire  groaning 
and  complaining  of  the  pains  in  her  bones.  Kate 
did  not  shrink  from  work,  but  the  cleaning  of  the 
upstairs  rooms  seemed  to  her  absurd  and  unneces- 
sary when  it  necessitated  taking  down  curtains, 
ripping  up  carpets,  and  moving  every  stick  of 
furniture  on  to  the  landing.  On  principle  she 
kept  away  from  it  as  much  as  possible  and  would 
make  up  by  washing  the  sheets  and  various  gar- 
ments of  the  mistress  that  generally  went  to  the 
outside  laundry,  by  cooking  a  particularly  dainty 
dinner,  and  by  offering  to  run  up  on  the  sewing 
machine  every  kind  of  costume  from  bathing  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  167 

ball  dresses,  assuring  Mrs.  Barry  that  all  could  be 
adequately  constructed  on  the  old  machine. 

In  truth  Kate  and  Molly  fitted  into  each  other 
like  a  puzzle  and  derived  much  mutual  benefit 
from  each  other's  society.  The  former  had  soon 
many  male  acquaintances  among  the  tradespeople 
and  shopkeepers,  and  their  ways  and  manner  of 
living,  the  number  of  relatives  and  wives  they  had 
buried,  or  the  girls  they  had  probably  walked  out 
with  and  their  personal  appearance  and  character 
were  a  topic  of  absorbing  interest  both  for  herself 
and  her  companion.  Men  surrendered  their  se- 
crets easily  to  Kate ;  she  soon  unwound  the  skein  of 
their  lives  with  her  clever  tongue  and  sharp  eye, 
and  this  power  over  the  male  was  one  of  the  great 
pleasures  of  her  life.  After  a  few  weeks'  ac- 
quaintance the  milkman  asked  her  for  her  advice 
on  a  matrimonial  question.  He  was  fifty-three 
and  had  never  been  married.  He  had  been  court- 
ing a  girl  for  years  and  she  had  finally  jilted  him 
after  a  brief  engagement.  He  wanted  very 
badly  to  get  her  back,  but  was  afraid  of  going 
to  her  or  writing  to  her  for  fear  she  might  think 
him  too  fond  of  her.  It  was  a  delicate  point,  and 
Kate,  after  surveying  his  scanty  grey  hairs  and 
withered  appearance,  and  after  weighing  in  the 
balance  his  real  earnestness  of  purpose,  felt  that 
it  would  be  unwise  for  him  to  wait  any  longer  and 
advised  a  direct  offensive  on  a  huge  scale  at  once. 
She  must  be  taken  by  storm,  her  defences  carried 
with  a  rush. 

The  grocer's  boy  had  often  confidences  to  make, 
for  though  his  years  were  few,  only  numbering 


168  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

seventeen,  he  had  already  broken  his  heart  sev- 
eral times.  Being  a  restless  soul  he  could  never 
concentrate  on  one  girl  at  once  and  therefore  dis- 
aster followed  him.  Molly  was  inclined  to  be 
sympathetic,  but  Kate  spoke  severely  to  him,  urg- 
ing for  other  people's  sake,  if  not  for  his  own,  a 
destruction  of  the  butterfly  tendency  in  his  nature, 
or,  at  least,  an  absorbed  attention  to  the  one  flower 
at  the  one  time. 

1316  was  not  forgotten,  and  in  spite  of  his 
cowardly  behaviour  on  the  night  of  the  Peacock 
engagement  he  was  invited  to  spend  an  evening  in 
the  kitchen  at  Hatch  Street.  Kate  was  anxious  to 
see  him  and  to  find  out  what  his  disposition  was 
with  regard  to  herself,  and  also  what  was  his 
opinion  of  that  unfortunate  episode.  He  might 
be  feeling  aggrieved  at  having  been  led  into  such 
an  ambush;  he  might  very  legitimately  feel  hurt 
at  his  person  being  made  the  subject  of  insulting 
remarks  by  an  elderly  female.  However,  as  soon 
as  she  saw  him  she  knew  this  was  not  the  case; 
knew  that  'he  was  ashamed  of  himself,  for  his  eye 
was  furtive,  his  manner  apologetic,  and  apparently 
he  wished  to  avoid  discussing  that  bird  of  ill  omen, 
the  Peacock.  The  word  did  not  pass  his  lips, 
and  his  fulsome  greetings  and  complacency  of 
manner  were  extreme. 

Molly  was  slightly  alarmed  by  his  height  and 
breadth  of  chest,  by  his  extreme  muscularity  of  ap- 
pearance. Large  men  made  her  feel  uncomfort- 
able and  uneasy;  their  mere  physique  seemed  to 
overwhelm  her  and  check  any  easy  flow  of  speech; 
she  infinitely  preferred  a  small  compact  man;  he 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  169 

could  not  look  down  upon  her,  and  he  therefore 
put  her  at  her  ease.  A  large  man,  especially  a 
policeman,  seemed  so  far  off  and  aloof,  a  being 
awesome  in  appearance,  enthroned  in  his  own  dig- 
nity as  it  were  —  like  a  great  mountain  peak  that 
can  only  be  viewed  with  respect  from  immeasur- 
able distance,  that  one  can  never  hope  to  be  fa- 
miliar with,  never  hope  to  scale. 

1316  took  little  heed  of  her;  he  was  anxious 
to  talk  to  Kate,  and  having  settled  himself  down 
into  the  largest  chair  in  the  kitchen,  broke  into 
voluble  speech.  He  proceeded  to  discuss  the  char- 
acteristics of  northerners  and  southerners  much 
to  the  detriment  of  the  north.  "  They're  too  stiff 
and  saucy,  the  Munster  people  are  free  and  easy, 
and  are  much  better  sport.  Faith,  the  northerners 
think  themselves  young  dukes  and  duchesses;  but 
we've  no  such  opinion  of  ourselves  at  all."  At 
the  completion  of  this  statement,  while  covertly 
eyeing  the  two  women,  he  gave  a  shake  to  his 
mighty  shoulders,  and  waved  his  hand  in  a  lordly 
fashion,  which  was  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I'm  a 
fine-looking  man  myself,  but  I  think  nothing  of  it." 

"  And  what's  your  opinion  of  the  people  in 
the  west?  "  queried  Kate  coolly,  not  taking  the 
least  notice  of  this  magnificence  of  gesture  though 
Molly  stared  at  it  open-eyed. 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  the  west,"  he  re- 
plied. "  But  they  do  say  the  County  Clare  people 
are  half  mad;  they  have  little  cows  no  bigger  than 
sheep ;  and  they  all  go  milking  them  in  the  evening. 
I  know  one  Carol  from  Clare,  and  he's  a  rough 
kind  of  fellow." 


170  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  Did  you  let  on  to  Joe  Spillane  I  was  in  Dub- 
lin?" Kate  interrupted  his  tale  rather  rudely, 
partly  to  show  Molly  that  this  wonderful  being 
was  no  more  than  the  dirt  of  the  earth  to  her,  and 
partly  to  convey  to  him  that  she  wasn't  in  the  least 
impressed  by  his  evident  desire  to  please. 

"  I  told  him  you  was  here,"  was  the  chastened 
reply. 

"  I  mind  him  when  he  was  a  little  lad  before 
old  Joe  Spillane  went  to  Wexford." 

"  Ay  so.  Maybe  you  didn't  hear  what  hap- 
pened him.  He  fell  over  Bohernabreena  cliffs 
one  day  in  a  great  wind.  They  said  'twas  the 
way  he  was  drunk,  but  he  wasn't.  Sure,  he'd  only 
three  pints  drank.  I'm  thinking  he  was  mentally 
drunk  but  physically  sober  and  'twas  the  wind  that 
did  the  rest.  Howsomever,  I  looked  over  the  cliff 
for  his  body,  and  I  saw  him  lying  with  a  smile  on 
his  face  and  the  half  of  his  head  gone  — scattered 
over  the  rocks." 

"  Almighty  God!  the  poor  man!  " 

"  There's  his  knock  now.  I  thought  maybe 
you'd  like  to  see  him  for  the  sake  of  old  times." 

"  But  wasn't  he  killed  dead?  "  exclaimed  Molly 
breathlessly;  "  the  half  of  his  head  scattered  over 
the  rocks." 

"  The  miracle  was  that  the  doctor  took  him  to 
the  dispensary  and  stitched  up  his  face  again,  and 
he  was  better  than  he  ever  was  in  his  life  within 
the  month." 

"  D'you  tell  me  now !  "  Molly  turned  and 
gaped  at  the  area  door  which  Kate  was  opening. 
She  expected  to  see  a  horribly  scarred  face,  a 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  171 

countenance  marked  and  maimed  irremediably,  at 
any  rate  a  little  wisp  of  a  man  that  a  sea  wind 
might  flick  over  a  cliff  as  a  boot  flicks  a  stone  at 
pitch  and  toss,  but  instead  there  appeared  a  far 
stouter,  rosier  young  man  than  Tom,  a  man  that 
seemed  to  fill  the  kitchen  with  his  presence,  and 
before  whom  Kate  was  dwarfed  into  abject  insig- 
nificance. When  the  first  greetings  were  over  and 
the  introduction  made,  Kate  sat  down  beside  this 
enormous  personage,  and  entered  into  an  ani- 
mated conversation  with  him.  1316  made  sev- 
eral attempts  to  join  in  it,  but  was  each  time  re- 
pelled, no  notice  being  taken  of  his  remarks.  He 
renounced  his  easy  reclining  position  in  his  chair 
and  sat  up  very  straight,  gazing  across  at  Kate 
with  something  of  the  glassy  reproachful  stare  of 
a  dead  fish  in  the  expression  of  his  eyes.  This 
deathly  glare  seemed  to  have  no  effect;  she  was 
apparently  quite  unconcerned,  laughing  occasion- 
ally and  chatting  away  with  Joe  Spillane,  offering 
him,  just  as  if  he  were  the  guest  of  the  evening, 
the  first  cup  of  tea  from  the  pot. 

Molly  felt  she  should  entertain  Tom,  felt  that 
all  the  rules  of  hospitality  demanded  it  of  her; 
but  her  mind  grew  quite  confused  when  she  tried 
to  think  of  something  to  say.  It  was  so  hard  to 
know  what  would  interest  him.  If  a  girl  had  been 
there  it  would  have  been  quite  a  different  matter; 
she  would  have  discussed  dresses  and  shop  win- 
dows, the  wonders  of  Grafton  Street,  the  toilettes 
that  passed  in  and  out  of  the  Shelbourne  Hotel; 
how  one  should  do  one's  hair,  whether  in  the 
egg  shape,  like  the  nose  of  a  teapot  or  in  the  sober 


172  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

roundness  of  a  bun.  They  would  have  deplored 
the  fact  that  invisible  hairpins  were  no  longer 
obtainable;  that  according  to  rumour  all  hairpins 
would  soon  disappear  from  the  shops  as  the  stock 
available  for  their  manufacture  was  to  be  devoted 
to  the  making  of  munitions;  that  consequently,  as 
ribbons  were  so  expensive,  they  would  be  reduced 
to  boot-laces  and  odd  bits  of  string  for  the  retain- 
ing of  their  hair  in  the  shape  required' by  fashion. 
Here  was  subject  matter  enough  for  a  whole  even- 
ing's talk.  But,  instinctively  Molly  felt  that  these 
interesting  and  enthralling  items  of  conversation 
would  only  bore  a  man,  or,  worse  still,  outrage  his 
great  intellect.  So  her  mind  fell  back  at  last  upon 
that  old  worn-out  theme,  the  weather.  With  a 
dryness  of  voice  that  comes  from  nerves  and  from 
not  having  used  it  for  some  little  time  Molly  tenta- 
tively addressed  1316. 

"  It's  lovely  weather,  Mr.  Casey." 

"Beautiful  —  beautiful,"  he  replied,  sucking 
the  knob  of  his  cane  hungrily  and  gazing  at  Kate. 

"  It's  strange  it  keeps  so  fine  at  this  time  of 
year." 

'  Very  strange."  The  knob  of  the  stick  must 
have  been  half  gnawed  away  by  this  time  so  fiercely 
did  the  big  jaws  close  about  it. 

"  Sun  and  drought." 

"  Sun  and  drought." 

There  was  a  pause,  then  Molly  began  desper- 
ately again.  "  You'd  wonder  at  the  amount  of 
rain  that's  after  falling  —  torrents  from  the 
skies."  She  had  been  confused  by  her  failure  to 
elicit  anything  but  monosyllabic  replies  from  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  173 

great  man,  and  had  completely  contradicted  her- 
self, and  now,  recognising  her  error,  was  worse 
confounded. 

1316,  however,  noticed  nothing,  and  replied 
in  the  same  monotonous  manner,  "  You'd  wonder 
indeed." 

Molly,  fearing  to  risk  further  remarks  that 
might  betray  an  even  more  abject  foolishness  of 
mind,  relapsed  into  silence.  Kate,  after  this  fail- 
ure, would  regard  her  as  a  mere  girl  who  was  quite 
unable  to  keep  up  a  conversation  with  a  man  of 
intellectual  attainments,  and  she  wished  the  flags 
of  the  kitchen  would  draw  apart  and  a  rush  of  air 
suck  her  down  into  the  bowels  of  the  cellars  — 
anywhere  away  from  these  two  gigantic  person- 
ages. 

Mr.  Spillane  was  not  a  very  brilliant  conversa- 
tionalist, but,  conscious  that  he  was  the  figure  of 
the  evening,  he  was  endeavouring  to  make  some 
profound  remarks  about  farming,  one  of  the  few 
subjects  in  which  he  believed  Tom  could  not 
outmatch  him  and  spread  himself  in  a  profusion 
of  words.  "  Wexford  is  a  tillage  country,"  he 
was  saying,  "  they  don't  make  much  butter  or  rear 
many  calves.  They  grow  beans  and  vetch,  and 
it's  a  grand  potato  country.  They  export  to  Eng- 
land. And  as  for  bees  and  honey,  it's  wonderful 
altogether;  my  father  makes  thirty  pounds  a  year 
in  bees." 

"  And  what  kind  of  men  do  they  rear?  "  in- 
quired Kate. 

"  Oh,  the  men  of  County  Wexford  are  lovely 
altogether,  and  it's  a  country  full  of  old  fellows 


174  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

without  teeth;  it's  healthy  I  suppose."  Mr.  Spil- 
lane  paused,  not  being  able  to  think  of  anything 
further  to  say  about  the  boys  of  Wexford.  But 
becoming  intensely  aware  of  the  cold  glare  of 
1316,  he  felt  that  it  would  be  advisable  to  continue 
if  he  wished  to  retain  his  position  in  the  eyes  of 
the  women.  Any  stupid  talk  will  do  a  man;  a 
woman,  especially  one  like  Kate,  must  at  all  costs 
be  suitably  impressed,  either  by  wit  or  deep  learn- 
ing, and  he  cast  about  desperately  in  the  byways 
of  his  mind  for  some  profound  reflection. 

"  They're  great  for  rearing  geese  in  Wexford," 
he  announced  after  a  long  search.  "  Oh,  you 
couldn't  beat  them  in  the  four  provinces  for  geese. 
They're  wonderful  altogether." 

"  What  a  fool  you  are  to  be  sure  not  to  know 
a  goose  when  you  see  one,"  Tom  eyed  his  fat 
comrade  sternly,  and  then  turned  to  Kate  with  a 
lofty  air  of  detached  wisdom.  "  Don't  mind  him, 
the  Wexford  geese  are  all  bones  and  gristle.  Oh, 
there's  no  geese  like  the  County  Cork  geese.  Soft 
and  tender  they  are." 

"  Ah,  Tom,  you'd  better  take  out  your  brains 
and  wash  them,"  replied  Kate,  a  note  of  calm  com- 
passion in  her  voice.  "  What  do  you  know  about 
geese?  A  Cork  goose  is  as  tough  as  that  table. 
Oh,  they've  no  ideas  about  rearing  geese  in  Cork 
at  all."' 

The  theme  of  geese,  young  and  old,  fat  and 
lean,  was  tossed  to  and  fro  between  them,  with 
much  anger  and  fury  of  words  on  the  part  of  the 
men,  for  nearly  half  an  hour.  Tom  lost  his  tem- 
per completely;  after  a  little  while  he  realised  that 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  175 

Kate  was  laughing  at  him,  and  with  a  great  effort 
he  pulled  himself  together  and  determined  to  teach 
her  a  lesson. 

"  Do  you  play  the  piano,  Miss  Mulquiney?  " 
he  inquired,  turning  to  Molly,  of  whose  presence 
he  had  been  apparently  unconscious  until  that  mo- 
ment. The  question  was  a  subtle  compliment. 
The  great  ambition  of  a  farmer's  daughter  is  to 
possess  a  piano  and  to  learn  to  strum  on  it.  In- 
asmuch as  this  accomplishment  and  this  possession 
are  an  indication  of  immense  wealth  and  ease,  and 
also  a  mark  of  superior  education,  indicating  the 
fact  that  the  performer  has  had  the  privilege  of 
attending  a  convent  school,  and  has  not  gone  with 
the  common  crowd  to  a  national  school. 

Molly,  quite  sensible  of  the  compliment, 
blushed  and  stammered  a  little  as  she  replied,  "  I 
do  not  play  the  piano,  but  I've  a  great  fancy  for 
it,  Mr.  Casey." 

"  The  piano  is  a  gorgeous  instrument  —  gor- 
geous." 1316  rolled  out  the  adjective  with  such 
a  luxuriance  of  sound,  such  a  defiance  of  manner, 
that  no  ordinary  mortal  would  have  dared  to  con- 
tradict such  a  statement. 

"  Ah,  sure,  the  piano  is  only  a  jingly  old  grave- 
yard of  bones,"  said  Kate  contemptuously;  "  now 
I  like  a  good  noisy  hullaballoo  on  a  drum,  or  the 
pipes  itself,  and  a  swinging  dance  tune." 

1316  took  no  notice  of  this  irritating  contradic- 
tion, addressing  Molly  as  if  she  were  the  only 
occupant  of  the  room,  "  Do  you  sing,  Miss  Mul- 
quiney? " 

"  I  do  —  only  a  little." 


176  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Much  to  her  confusion,  Molly  was  there  and 
then  pressed  in  a  most  moving  manner  to  render 
up  a  song  at  once.  It  was  no  use  complaining  of 
a  weak  throat,  of  the  damp  or  of  a  forgetful  mem- 
ory, this  compelling  man  scattered  these  excuses 
with  one  contemptuous  gesture.  1316  wished  for 
a  song;  that  was  sufficient.  Molly,  though  she 
was  trembling  with  agitation,  and  hated  singing 
to  these  two  strangers,  without  any  further  ques- 
tioning bent  her  will  to  his  word.  It  was  beyond 
the  bounds  of  reason  to  refuse  such  a  personage 
when  he  persisted  in  his  request,  and  stated  that 
it  was  really  a  matter  of  moment  to  him. 

She  chose  Moore's  melodies,  and  sang  in  a 
small,  sweet,  quavering  voice  of  the  departure 
of  the  minstrel  boy,  of  the  dead  harp  on  Tara's 
walls,  and  of  the  collar  of  gold  that  was  won 
from  the  proud  invader.  At  the  end  of  these, 
1316,  whose  eyes  were  moist  with  genuine  emo- 
tion, entreated  her  to  continue,  and,  in  spite  of  her 
own  diffidence  and  embarrassment,  she  felt  com- 
pelled to  sing  "  My  Dark  Rosaleen." 

Her  voice  was  husky;  it  was  not  as  good  a 
performance  as  the  others;  she  was  afraid  she  had 
failed,  and  regretted  ere  the  last  note  had  broken 
across  the  kitchen  that  she  had  chosen  such  a 
difficult  melody.  However,  her  listeners  were 
very  flattering  in  their  praise  of  her  powers. 
1316  uttered  words  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been 
pining  away  for  lack  of  music;  that  his  life  was 
a  desert,  his  soul  numbed,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
he  could  not  sing  himself,  and  that  none  of  his 
companions  could  express  themselves  in  musical 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  177 

terms.  She  had  given  him  an  evening  he  would 
long  remember;  he  could  not  thank  her  enough  for 
it. 

She  blushed  and  stammered,  trying  to  think  of 
something  nice  to  say  in  return,  and  feeling  how 
poor  were  her  phrases  in  comparison  with  his. 
They  did  not  stay  very  long  after  her  singing,  as 
they  had  to  be  on  duty  at  midnight,  and  though 
their  remarks  were  delightful,  and  warmed  her 
heart,  she  felt  relieved  when  they  departed. 

There  was  a  guilty  flush  of  triumph  in  her 
cheeks  when  Kate  returned  from  the  area  gate 
after  seeing  the  two  heavy  men  clamber  up  the 
steps  to  the  street.  Kate  had  been  taken  very 
little  notice  of  during  the  last  half  hour,  especially 
little  by  1316,  who  was  d<  cidedly  the  more  attrac- 
tive of  the  two  men.  They  were  her  guests  after 
all,  and  it  was  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  remorse 
and  triumph  that  Molly  remarked  apologetically: 

"  It  must  have  been  dull  for  you,  Kate,  to  be 
hearing  me  singing  them  old  songs.  Mr.  Casey 
and  Mr.  Spillane  are  very  nice,  but  they'd  a  right 
not  to  talk  so  much  about  them  when  they  come 
to  see  you.  I  was  really  sorry  for  you,  and  I'd 
have  liked  to  have  stopped  them."  She  regretted 
this  tactless  speech  as  soon  as  she  had  made  it, 
realising  that  it  was  conceited,  that  it  pointed  a 
finger  at  herself,  as  it  were,  as  the  figure  of  the 
evening. 

"  Sorry  for  me!  "  exclaimed  Kate;  "  why,  I'd 
the  time  of  my  life.  Didn't  you  see  the  game  I 
was  playing,  annoying  1316  by  taking  no  notice 
of  him.  And  in  the  heel  the  big  stupid  man 


178  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

thought  he'd  play  the  same  trick  on  me  by  paying 
you  great  attentions.  Oh,  he  was  a  perfect  thea- 
tre; I  coiled  with  laughter  at  him."  A  long  bil- 
lowy roll  of  this  same  laughter  checked  further 
speech  on  Kate's  part,  while  Molly  stared  at  her 
dumbfounded.  It  had  been  a  game  after  all,  and 
it  was  not  her  own  attractions  but  merely  temper 
which  had  led  this  great  man  to  pay  her  such  high 
compliments. 

She  realised  suddenly  some  of  the  misery  of 
that  rhythmic  motion  in  life  which  apparently 
drives  us  on  to  the  crest  of  the  wave  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  dashing  us  down  into  abysmal  depth 
unknown  to  us  before  when  the  current  of  life 
flowed  monotonously  and  smoothly  by.  She  was 
ashamed  of  herself,  horribly  ashamed,  for  she  had 
taken  what  he  had  said  literally  and  must  have  cut 
a  ridiculous  figure. 

The  pretty  flush  on  Molly's  cheeks  fled  from 
them,  she  drooped  her  head,  and  wishing  with  all 
the  pessimistic  fervour  of  youth  that  she  had  never 
been  born  to  be  made  such  a  fool  of,  crept  silently 
to  bed. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  a  short  space  of  time  the  fact  that  1316  ad- 
mired Molly  was  patent  to  the  least  observant. 
He  had  started  by  wishing  to  make  reprisals  on 
Kate,  by  playing  the  same  game  as  her  own.  The 
game  had  become  a  serious  affair.  He  had  really 
felt  the  sentiments  he  had  expressed  with  regard 
to  Molly's  singing.  He  only  wished  that  he  could 
express,  with  the  same  eloquence,  what  he  felt 
with  regard  to  her  general  appearance ;  but  in  this 
more  personal  matter  he  was  timid,  and  he  had 
to  be  content  with  gazing  at  her  as  long  as  it  was 
seemly  for  any  young  man  to  gaze  at  any  young 
woman. 

For  Molly  the  depression  of  that  first  evening 
was  only  like  one  heavy  foreboding  spring  shower. 
It  was  past  now  and  she  revelled  in  the  warm  sun- 
shine that  followed.  The  savour  and  scent  that 
comes  with  the  first  real  sun  of  the  year  is  the 
sweetest;  and  to  her  there  was  a  strange,  rather 
terrifying  pleasure  in  the  companionship  and  ad- 
miration of  this  huge  policeman.  She  had  never 
been  admired  by  any  one  before  —  never  been 
conscious  of  a  man's  gaze  following  her.  It  was 
a  wonderful  experience  and  made  her  heart  beat 
fast  at  times.  She  had  no  brothers  and  had  al- 
ways lived  with  women,  so  men,  until  now,  had 
been  to  her  like  some  queer  animals,  very  formid- 

179 


180  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

able,  very  inexplicable,  only  to  be  viewed  at  a  dis- 
tance. Instinct  warned  her  to  avoid  them,  and 
when  she  was  not  actually  in  Tom's  presence  she 
wanted  to  avoid  him  because  he  frightened  her  and 
she  did  not  know  what  to  say  to  him:  she  was 
afraid  lest  he  should  find  out  the  smallness  of  her 
intellect,  lest  he  should  make  the  dreadful  dis- 
covery that  she  was  not  interested  in  the  lofty 
themes  of  the  universe,  but  merely  in  the  prices 
of  clothes,  hair-dressing,  shop  windows  and  the 
interiors  of  houses.  Worst  of  all,  she  was  afraid 
of  the  unknown  in  him.  In  spite  of  such  fears  she 
could  not  drag  herself  away  when  he  paid  an  even- 
ing call,  and  watched  him  like  a  fascinated  bird, 
enjoying  his  homage.  It  was  not  surprising, 
therefore,  that  she  was  unable  to  refuse  him  one 
eventful  afternoon  when  he  begged  her  to  come 
out  for  a  walk.  The  matter  was  arranged  in  a 
few  minutes  between  him  and  Kate.  For  it  hap- 
pened to  be  the  latter's  afternoon  out,  but  she  said 
she  did  not  wish  to  go  anywhere  and  that  Molly 
looked  pale  and  should  get  a  little  air. 

That  walk  was  a  whirl  of  excitement,  pleasure 
and  fear.  1316  started  by  embarrassing  her  con- 
siderably with  many  inquiries  after  her  health  and 
with  remarks  about  her  delicate  appearance  which 
were  extremely  gratifying,  but  very  trying  as,  in 
spite  of  all  her  efforts  to  remain  calm  and  com- 
posed, that  crimson  flush  would  creep  up  her  cheeks 
and  forehead,  and  she  felt  that  he  noticed  her 
rising  colour.  With  an  effort  she  managed  to 
change  the  topic  of  conversation  to  the  sights  of 
Dublin  and  the  qualities  of  the  people  in  that 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  181 

ancient  city.  The  theme  was  a  fortunate  one,  for 
Tom's  knowledge  of  Ireland's  metropolis  was  vast. 
After  a  brief  survey  of  her  monuments,  ecclesi- 
astical and  secular,  he  pierced  the  dark  mists  of 
history,  and,  having  traversed  fabulous  thousands 
of  years  in  a  mighty  wind  of  words,  brought  to 
light  facts  that  seemed  to  prove  the  Danish  origin 
of  Dubliners  once  and  for  all.  Perhaps  the  most 
evidential  of  these  was  their  curious  method  of 
speech,  their  invariable  habit  in  modern  times  of 
talking  as  if  they  had  a  bad  cold  in  their  nose. 
He  was  confident  no  pure-blooded  Celt  could  suf- 
fer from  this  nasal  idiosyncrasy.  The  Celts  were 
too  great  and  fine  a  race  to  bear  anything  but 
noble  and  uncongested  noses  through  which  the 
airs  of  Heaven  easily  and  freely  flowed.  It  was 
regrettable  that  the  sea  rovers  should  have  left 
this  mark  upon  the  race.  However,  worse  things 
might  have  occurred.  God  knows  what  would 
have  happened,  what  awful  nasal  complications 
might  have  ensued  if  Brian  Boru  had  not  finally 
beaten  the  Danes  at  the  battle  of  Clontarf.  Oh, 
there  was  much  to  be  thankful  for;  the  patriots 
in  abusing  England  and  the  Almighty  for  Ire- 
land's sorrows  should  at  least  take  this  one  mercy 
into  account.  The  argument  was  of  a  compli- 
cated pattern,  and  Molly's  head  buzzed  like  a 
trapped  bee  as  she  tried  to  follow  its  winding 
curves,  and  many  times  she  had  to  say  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,"  and  when  there  came  a  repetition  and 
still  she  could  not  understand,  desperately  en- 
deavour to  look  wise. 

Stephen's    Green    was    crowded    with    children 


182  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

screaming,  kicking,  hitting  each  other  and  rolling 
in  the  mutilated  grass.  1316,  suddenly  diving 
back  from  ancient  pagan  times,  from  bearded  Vik- 
ings and  their  kind,  proceeded  to  make  severe  com- 
ments on  the  families  in  Fitzwilliam  Lane  and  on 
their  extraordinary  powers  of  expansion,  on  their 
evident  belief  that  Stephen's  Green  was  their  own 
particular  property.  It  was  monstrous,  but  only 
a  part  and  parcel  of  the  corporation's  imbecility. 
The  Green  had  been  laid  out  for  the  benefit  of 
couples,  not  for  the  benefit  of  nurseries. 
Under  the  circumstances,  however,  it  was 
impossible  to  have  an  easy  and  comfortable 
conversation  with  a  friend,  and  he  suggested  a 
penny  tram  ride  and  the  more  select  and  seemly 
surroundings  of  Herbert  Park. 

Molly  readily  acquiesced,  she  thought  it  would 
be  very  choice;  and  half  an  hour  later  they  were 
sitting  on  a  seat  near  the  concrete  pond  of  this 
prim  suburban  park.  It  was  then  that  1316  be- 
came extremely  conscious  of  his  companion's  pres- 
ence. Her  face,  with  its  pretty  colour,  small 
features  and  innocent  expression,  disorganised  his 
thinking  powers  and  scattered  the  multitude  of 
words  that  were  usually  thronging  to  his  lips.  Si- 
lence fell  upon  the  two.  He  watched  her  closely 
while  she  modestly  averted  her  eyes;  and  his  po- 
liceman's soul  was  moved  to  rapture,  and  he  de- 
sired greatly  to  finger  her  brown  curls  and  to 
touch  her  small  hands,  holding  them  in  his  large 
palm  for  a  period  unmentionable  —  until  the  end 
of  the  world,  and  after  if  possible,  so  strong  was 
his  craving,  so  wonderful  the  might  of  his  desire. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  183 

These  blissful  moments,  which  seem  to  include 
all  space  and  time,  are  curiously  fleeting.  1316 
began  to  be  uncomfortable.  It  was  not  usual  for 
him  to  have  these  peculiar  sensations.  It  was  only 
with  an  effort  he  had  checked  an  almost  uncontrol- 
lable impulse  to  slide  his  arm  round  Molly.  His 
mind  woke  up;  the  matter  was  getting  serious 
and  required  looking  into.  He  scarcely  knew  the 
girl,  and  had  as  yet,  so  far  as  he  knew  himself, 
no  serious  intentions  with  regard  to  her.  Of  one 
fact  only  in  connection  with  her  he  was  sure.  He 
must  not  remain  seated  on  that  bench  any  longer. 

For  a  little  while  Molly  had  felt  extraordinarily 
happy,  but  now  his  uneasiness  communicated  itself 
to  her,  and  before  he  could  move  his  slow  body 
she  had  jumped  up  murmuring  that  it  was  drawing 
late  and  that  she  must  return  to  Hatch  Street. 
The  excuse  was  quite  an  artificial  one  as  they  both 
well  knew,  and  he  succeeded  in  persuading  her  to 
take  another  penny  tram  and  to  have  tea  with  him 
at  a  D.B.C.  on  the  north  side  of  Stephen's  Green. 

Molly  had  rarely  experienced  such  pure  joy  as 
in  those  exquisite  few  minutes  when,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  she  had  a  meal  in  a  restaurant  in 
the  company  of  this  remarkable-looking  man.  She 
was  conscious  that  various  other  couples  were 
watching  them  covertly  and  that  the  waitresses 
were  most  obsequious  in  their  attentions  to  his  tea- 
pot and  his  table.  He  was  inclined  to  be  gloomy 
and  meditative,  and  the  thoughts  he  gave  utter- 
ance to  were  of  a  somewhat  cynical  nature,  dealing 
with  the  hideousness  of  the  people  who,  like  them- 
selves, were  chewing  dry  war  bun  and  drinking  tea, 


184  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  also  with  the  rather  serious  possibility  that  at 
the  present  rate  of  consumption  beef  and  Guinness' 
stout  would  soon  be  a  luxury  only  within  the  reach 
of  the  multi-millionaire.  However,  he  cheered  up 
considerably  as  he  accompanied  her  back  to  Hatch 
Street.  For  he  explained  to  her  eloquently  and  at 
length  how  he  would  spend  five  or  six  millions  of 
pounds  if  by  chance  some  railway  king  or  pork 
emperor  decide'd  to  leave  him  that  sum.  It  was 
quite  a  likely  contingency  as  relatives  of  his  had 
gone  to  America  some  fifteen  years  before  and  he 
had  heard  nothing  of  them  since.  If  they  wer^ 
poor  he  would  most  certainly  have  heard  of  them. 
So  the  chances  of  a  great  inheritance  were  all  in 
his  favour.  Molly  quite  agreed;  this  was  a  per- 
fectly lucid  argument,  the  first  of  his  that  she  had 
been  able  to  follow  clearly  and  been  able  to  per- 
ceive its  logical  sequence.  Such  magnificence  ap- 
pealed to  her  imagination,  causing  him  to  rise  very 
considerably  in  her  estimation,  and  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  happy  awe  and  inexpressible  gratitude 
she  took  leave  of  him  at  the  area  gate. 

Kate  quite  approved  of  the  growing  intimacy  be- 
tween Molly  and  Tom.  She  did  not  find  the  big 
man  of  interest  at  the  moment.  She  wanted  to 
make  explorations  in  unknown  country;  a  number 
of  new  male  acquaintances  claimed  her  attention. 
Like  a  child  with  a  clock  she  wished  to  take  them 
to  pieces,  to  get  to  know  every  part  of  the  works. 
There  was  James  Delaney,  a  plain-clothes  detec- 
tive, Carol  a  shoemaker,  Terry  Finny  who  was  a 
man  of  property  and  owned  cabs,  Pats  the  old 
newsvendor  who  sold  her  Erin's  Own  every  week, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  185 

Mr.  Fagan  a  young  grocer's  assistant  with  a  most 
beautiful  curl  like  a  cock's  comb  always  waving 
over  his  low  forehead,  Joe  Spillane  and  several 
others  with  whom  she  had  a  greater  or  less  degree 
of  acquaintance.  She  had  many  chats  with  each 
of  them  in  any  time  she  had  to  spare,  so  she  was 
genuinely  glad  that  Tom  and  Molly  were  occu- 
pied with  each  other,  for  the  former  was  of  a 
rather  jealous  disposition,  and  might  have  tried  to 
interfere  while  she  was  endeavouring  to  follow  out 
in  all  its  maze  of  details  that  complicated  jig-saw 
puzzle,  the  temperament  and  nature  of  a  man. 
She  was  still  searching  for  "  a  whole  man,"  and 
there  was  a  calm  conviction  in  her  mind  that  some 
day  she  would  find  him,  some  day  she  would  view 
him  in  all  his  glory. 

Other  matters  also  occupied  her  attention.  She 
was  a  good  dressmaker,  and  she  took  a  lively  and 
professional  interest  in  clothes  of  every  variety 
and  kind.  Their  study  was  a  mild  but  engross- 
ing amusement,  giving  her  much  food  for  thought 
and  much  pleasurable  planning.  It  was  not  for 
herself  alone  she  planned.  Any  woman  she  met 
out  of  doors  with  a  graceful  or  remarkable  figure, 
an  attractive  or  hideous  appearance  was  subject 
matter  for  a  design.  For  a  short  distance  she 
would  track  the  unknown  individual  she  had  chosen 
as  a  theme,  following  her  down  quite  uninterest- 
ing streets,  striving  to  make  a  mental  picture  of 
her  in  a  certain  costume,  and  she  obtained  as  much 
delight  from  the  construction  of  it,  the  various 
materials  used,  their  quality  and  their  price,  as  an 
ardent  collector  obtains  from  his  curios.  There 


186  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

are  certain  broad  general  principles.  A  short, 
fat  woman,  with  a  rolling  gait,  must  be  clad  in  a 
garment  that  is  loose  and  flowing  and  must  avoid 
light  colours  and  waistbands.  Young  girls,  with 
"  cute  figures,"  might  with  advantage  adopt  bril- 
liant shades.  Rose  colouring,  or  what  might  be 
described  as  a  sunset  effect,  in  hat  or  costume 
added  considerably  to  the  pleasures  of  those  who 
strolled  abroad.  Indeed  it  was  in  the  public  in- 
terest that  a  little  brightness  should  be  introduced 
into  the  grey  streets.  And  though  Kate  did  not 
regard  herself  as  a  young  girl  any  longer,  her 
favourite  outfit  on  a  fine  day  consisted  of  a  scar- 
let plaid  blouse,  an  emerald-green  skirt  and  the 
yellow  hat  she  had  christened  "  the  gosling." 

Further,  in  regard  to  dress,  the  tall  and  lean,  the 
walking  skeletons,  also  presented  their  problem. 
Indeed  it  was  difficult  to  make  them  decorative. 
They  should  most  certainly  cover  up  all  angulari- 
ties and  wear  full  blouses,  and  their  chests,  in  most 
cases,  should  be  padded.  For  Kate  objected  em- 
phatically to  a  lack  of  bosom.  It  was,  in  her  opin- 
ion, as  great  a  deformity  as  flat  feet  or  a  squint. 
What  was  really  puzzling  was  the  fact  that  these 
broad  seemingly  immutable  principles  could  be 
very  often  upset  —  upset  by  the  most  insignificant 
of  women.  Features  of  course  made  a  difference, 
and  a  long  hawklike  nose  and  pumpkin-shaped 
heads  very  often  spoiled  the  symmetry  of  a  cos- 
tume that  would  otherwise  have  been  excellent. 
Such  complications  added  to  the  interest  of  the 
study  and  much  strategy  was  required  in  order  to 
overcome  them. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  187 

Occasionally,  in  her  leisure  moments,  in  spite 
of  a  large  and  growing  circle  of  acquaintances, 
Kate  suffered  from  a  stupid  ache  that  took  the 
form  of  a  craving  for  country  life  and  country  oc- 
cupations —  the  rearing  of  ducks  and  geese,  the 
collection  of  eggs,  all  the  interesting  and  intricate 
problems  connected  with  the  hen-house  and  the 
chicken-coop,  milking  and  churning,  the  lore  of 
crops  and  weather,  the  ever  varying  difficulties 
that  have  to  be  faced  and  overcome  with  each 
fresh  season.  Sometimes  she  hungered  merely  for 
the  colours  of  the  fields,  the  lights  upon  the  rolling 
country,  dark  earth  turned  up  by  the  plough,  the 
lowing  of  cattle,  and  the  call  of  birds.  If  there 
were  no  company  at  hand  this  hunger  could  often 
be  cured  by  her  occupying  her  mind  with  research. 
She  would  either  pore  over  that  remarkable  fash- 
ion paper  Vogue,  which  was  lent  her  by  Mrs. 
Barry,  or  she  would  go  out  and  gaze  at  the  win- 
dows of  draper's  shop  after  draper's  shop  until 
the  pain  was  stilled. 

There  were  times  when,  tired  of  designing  cos- 
tumes for  other  people,  she  would  concentrate 
upon  herself,  devising  a  multiplicity  of  dresses  of 
every  shade  and  hue.  Then,  if  she  had  a  free 
afternoon,  it  was  her  custom  to  cross  town  to 
Henry  Street,  where  drapers'  shops  abound  and 
where  prices  are  of  not  too  disturbing  a  nature. 

Arnott's,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  street,  was 
rather  too  expensive  from  her  point  of  view, 
though  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  walk  straight 
past  it  and  always  stopped  to  scrutinise  its  wares. 
She  had  an  unquenchable  passion  for  checks,  and 


188  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

in  one  particular  season  there  was  a  whole  window 
full  of  checks  to  contemplate  with  the  label  "  As 
worn  "  on  each  one  of  them.  Of  these  a  lovely 
purple  and  dark  red  material  pleased  her  most,  and 
she  went  there  merely  for  the  purpose  of  gazing 
at  it  on  twelve  separate  occasions.  Unfortu- 
nately, it  was  beyond  her  means,  but  she  could  bear 
away  precious  memories  of  it,  and  in  hours  of 
moodiness  killed  the  ache  for  farm  life  and  farm 
work  with  its  gorgeous  stripe. 

On  the  opposite  side,  a  little  farther  down, 
Henry  Street  Warehouse  beckoned  to  her.  Here 
a  brilliant  display  of  blouses  enchanted  the  eye; 
they  were  in  the  bright  colours  Kate  loved  and 
were  both  "  snug  "  and  "  cute  "  in  her  opinion. 
Each  one  was  mysteriously  enhanced  in  value  by 
an  attractive  label  setting  forth  its  origin ;  and  the 
words  "  Paris  Model  "  and  "  Exclusive  Model " 
were  enough  to  set  her  heart  beating  rapidly. 

She  was  sorely  tempted  by  a  blouse  of  salmon 
pink  styled  "  For  dinner  wear."  If  the  necessary 
money  had  been  lying  in  her  purse  she  would  have 
walked  into  the  warehouse  and  purchased  this 
superb  creation  the  first  day  she  laid  eyes  on  it. 
As  she  never  dined  out  there  would  have  been  an 
especial  gratification  in  wearing  a  garment  others 
might  have  worn  for  that  purpose.  Unfortu- 
nately, her  purse  did  not  fill  up  sufficiently  rapidly, 
and  one  afternoon  the  salmon  pink  was  whipped 
from  off  the  lay  figure  by  a  ruthless  shopgirl  and 
the  place  of  its  glory  knew  it  no  more. 

Kate,  however,  was  soon  comforted.     She  dis- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  189 

covered  at  the  Melba  House  in  Merrion  Row 
a  dress  that  was  a  feast  to  the  eye,  that  eclipsed 
all  other  creations  she  had  known.  The  Melba 
House  had  the  advantage  of  being  opposite 
the  Co-operative  shop  which  she  visited  several 
mornings  in  the  week  in  order  to  purchase  sundry 
articles  of  food  for  the  household;  it  also  had  the 
advantage  of  being  one  of  the  most  interesting 
and  striking  draper's  establishments  in  the  city  of 
Dublin.  For  there  was  always  a  sale  going  on; 
other  shops  had  summer  sales  and  autumn  sales; 
this  one  made  every  day  of  the  year  notable  by 
offering  to  the  passing  throng  to  sell  off  its  goods 
at  enormous  reductions.  After-season  sales, 
autumn,  summer  and  winter  sales,  red-letter  and 
anniversary  sales  divided  up  the  seasons  for  it. 
Its  philanthropy  stirred  the  cynical  heart  and 
even  caught  the  attention  and  often  the  custom 
of  those  ladies  who  deal  with  the  firms  their 
grandparents  dealt  with,  who  bind  themselves 
in  the  folly  of  ancestor  worship  to  hereditary 
butchers,  bakers  and  drapers.  After  all,  if  they 
did  fall  before  temptation  nearly  every  article 
in  the  window  of  the  Melba  was  a  "  give  away." 
Here  was  a  sky-blue  "  crepe  de  Chine  blouse  for 
2s.  i  id.,  worth  295.,"  there  were  beautiful  gloves, 
"  throw-offs  from  the  manufacturers,  price  2s. 
i  id.,  value  55.  nd.  up  to  155."  It  was  not 
surprising,  therefore,  that  at  all  hours  of  the 
day  a  sprinkling  of  women  with  lean  anxious  faces 
stood  there  as  if  rooted  to  the  pavement  in  an 
ecstasy  of  contemplation. 


190  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  dress  that  Kate  admired  was  a  flowered 
silk  with  a  white  ground.  There  were  great 
cauliflowers  the  colour  of  beetroot  spread  over  it, 
pale  pink  flowers  in  shape  resembling  lilies  and 
many  others  not  known  in  the  botanical  world 
were  mingled  with  them.  The  designer  of  the 
frock  had  evidently  possessed  a  prodigal  imagi- 
nation. All  possible  and  impossible  colours  had 
been  used  by  him  in  this  tropical  vegetation;  his 
had  been  no  niggardly  mind,  and  his  effects  were 
of  a  satisfying  brilliance.  They  gave  consolation 
to  Kate  when  at  this  time  an  annoyance  of  an 
unforeseen  kind  beset  her,  disturbing  the  even  flow 
of  her  life. 

The  disturbance  was  caused  by  a  letter  from 
Eugene,  a  letter  that  brought  back  memories  of 
Droumavalla,  the  desolate  farm  and  the  old  people 
who  lived  in  it.  She  felt  injured  and  distressed. 
He  had  no  right  to  attempt  to  communicate  with 
her  after  the  way  she  had  spoken  to  him.  But  she 
read  and  re-read  the  little  scrap  of  writing  penned 
by  a  stiff  muscular  hand  and  carried  it  about  until 
it  was  nearly  worn  out  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress. 

"  DEAR  KATE,"  it  ran,  "  How  are  you  getting  on  ?  I  suppose 
you  know  a  crowd  of  high  up  people  in  Dublin  now.  It's 
strange  and  lonesome  here  and  the  quiet  would  put  the  heart 
across  you  sometimes.  The  work  is  very  heavy  with  only  a  boy 
to  help  me.  Mother  is  in  bed  altogether  now  and  the  old 
man  is  like  a  raging  bull.  I  can  please  him  no  ways  at  all. 
Bedad,  then,  it's  glad  in  my  heart  I'd  be  to  see  a  bit  of  your 
writing  if  you'd  a  moment  to  spare. 

"  I'm  thinking  I'm  getting  queer  with  the  loneliness.  The 
old  man  goes  to  the  fairs,  to  Middleton  and  to  Cork,  and  I 
haven't  the  heart  or  the  time  itself  to  go  over  to  the  village. 
So  I  have  no  one  to  talk  to  at  all. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  191 

"  I  will  be  watching  for  the  posts  now.  So  do  not  be  for- 
getting me. 

"EUGENE  TURPIN. 

"  P-S. —  Do  you  remember  the  word  we  had  ?  Would  you 
be  changing  your  mind  sometime,  do  you  think?  For  I  will 
never  be  changing  mine." 

There  was  little  enough  in  the  letter  and  yet  it 
told  all.  Eugene  was  suffering,  and  it  pained 
Kate  to  think  of  him  so.  It  was  quite  wrong 
that  such  a  gentle,  fine  young  man  should  be  un- 
happy, with  no  one  to  talk  to,  should  be  living 
there  all  by  his  lone.  And  then  her  pity  would 
turn  to  anger.  It  was  his  own  fault.  Why  was 
he  so  weak?  Why  would  he  not  stand  up  to  his 
father?  Why  did  he  allow  himself  to  be 
.trampled  on  by  that  old  brute?  There  was  no 
strength,  no  good  in  him  at  all.  She  had  nothing 
to  reproach  herself  with  for  refusing  him.  She 
could  not  have  borne  such  a  life  under  the  old 
man's  heel,  afraid  to  say  a  word  to  him,  compelled 
to  obey  his  outrageous  commands  because  of 
Eugene.  But  far  more  bitter  to  her  would  have 
been  her  sense  of  the  latter's  weakness,  and  daily 
companionship  would  have  made  it  more  and  more 
apparent.  He  was  only  half  a  man,  and  yet  re- 
minded her  continually  of  the  brothers  who  were 
gone.  He  was  their  shadow,  not  their  real  self, 
and  had  all  a  shadow's  deformities. 

In  spite  of  these  thoughts  Kate  read  his  letter 
every  day  until  she  knew  the  words  by  heart  and 
could  repeat  them  over  to  herself;  and  with  each 
sentence  a  picture  came  into  her  mind  of  the  day's 
doings  —  Eugene  driving  in  the  cows  through  the 
grey  morning,  drawing  a  white  stream  of  milk 


192  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

from  them,  driving  them  back  into  the  fields 
again.  After  that  there  were  the  calves  and  pigs 
to  be  fed,  and  later  land  to  be  ploughed  up  —  no 
rest  for  him  till  dark  came  again.  He  dreaded 
a  long  day  of  heavy  ploughing  because  of  his  lame- 
ness and  because  of  the  scourge  of  his  father's 
tongue.  She  hated  to  think  of  him  bearing  the  old 
man's  abuse  in  sullen  silence,  painfully  limping  up 
the  long  furrow,  hated  to  think  of  him  sitting  in 
the  lonely  kitchen  of  a  winter  evening  worn  out 
with  the  day's  toil,  neither  gratitude  nor  even 
recognition  of  his  labour  falling  to  his  share. 
And  her  mind  was  full  of  these  pictures  of  him 
borne  upon  the  wings  of  his  written  word,  and 
peace  and  happiness  fled  from  her. 

'  The  master's  down  this  half  hour  and  the 
breakfast's  not  cooked!  Sure  I  might  as  well 
be  yoked  with  a  cabbage,  and  I  working  with 
you."  The  irritation  in  Molly's  voice  roused 
Kate  from  one  of  the  reveries  that  had  so 
frequently  fallen  on  her  of  late.  She  did  not 
answer  back,  feeling  the  justice  of  this  last  remark, 
and  hurried  with  her  work,  making  up  by  im- 
moderate speed  for  the  few  minutes  when  her 
mind  was  away. 

Later,  when  the  kitchen  breakfast  and  the  up- 
stairs breakfast  were  over  and  the  mistress  had 
come  down  to  order  the  dinner  and  consult  about 
the  domestic  economy  of  the  household,  Kate  de- 
termined to  seek  counsel  from  her  if  an  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself.  It  would  not  be  sought 
in  a  serious  way  which  would  lead  her  to  suspect 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  193 

something  was  amiss,  but  in  a  half-joking  manner 
disguised  in  the  cloak  of  pleasant  small  talk. 

When  the  meals  had  been  disposed  of,  she 
cunningly  led  up  to  her  theme  by  making  certain 
broad  statements  about  mankind  in  general,  and 
then  narrowing  them  down  into  a  history  of  the 
shoemaker. 

"  Henessy  is  a  queer  kind  of  man,"  she  was 
saying.  "  He  has  three  children,  and  he's  after 
burying  a  wife.  The  day  of  the  funeral  he  was 
bawling  crying,  asking  them  to  bury  him  with  her, 
and  the  very  next  day  he  was  looking  for  a  new 
wife  to  sit  on  his  hearth.  And  when  I  held  up 
the  old  wife  to  him  and  asked  him  if  he  wasn't 
ashamed  of  himself  to  be  in  that  hurry,  says  he  to 
me, '  Well,  and  isn't  she  as  dead  as  she'll  ever  be?  ' 
Would  you  believe  that  now?  Oh,  Lord,  he's 
dangerous." 

"  Indeed  he  is,"  commented  Mrs.  Barry. 
"  You'd  better  avoid  him." 

"  Oh,  he's  a  decent  enough  little  bit  of  a  fellow, 
with  a  band  of  crape  in  his  hat  that  deep  " — 
Kate  illustrated  its  width  with  an  outspread  thumb 
and  forefinger  — "  and  a  head  as  red  as  the  centre 
of  the  fire.  But  what  kind  of  a  heart  can  he 
have  at  all?  " 

"  As  much  as  most  men  have,  and  that's  little 
enough,"  replied  Mrs.  Barry,  shaking  her  head 
with  a  laugh. 

"  But  sure  they're  very  quick  to  tell  you  they're 
breaking  it  for  you,  aren't  they  now?  "  said  Kate 
with  simulated  lightness. 


194  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  I  expect  you've  great  experience.  You  must 
have  broken  some  in  your  time,  Kate." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  that.  It's  queer 
and  easy,  ma'am,  to  be  breaking  a  man's  heart. 
Sure,  I  never  broke  mine  at  all  and  never  will." 

"  Of  one  thing  you  may  be  quite  sure,"  said 
Mrs.  Barry  in  the  same  light  way,  "  you  need 
never  mind  breaking  a  man's  heart,  for  what  there 
is  of  it  is  very  easily  mended." 

"  I  suppose  that's  really  so,"  was  her  listener's 
speculative  reply. 

"  Of  course  it  is.  Oh,  there's  nothing  in  the 
world  more  easily  mended,"  the  other  continued 
gaily,  "  so  if  you're  not  serious  yourself  you 
needn't  have  any  qualms  about  sending  him  off 
at  once.  They  tell  me  you  can  get  sausages 
threepence  a  pound  cheaper  in  Richmond  Street. 
Wouldn't  it  be  well  to  try  there  when  you're  out 
to-day? "  It  was  Mrs.  Barry's  habit  to  leap 
abruptly  from  one  subject  into  another.  Sausages 
and  human  hearts  she  would  heap  together  in  the 
same  breath,  never  attempting  to  sort  them  and 
deliver  them  in  their  own  time  and  place.  In  the 
space  of  one  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  morning 
she  had  frequently  discussed  with  her  husband  the 
shallow  ugliness  of  imagist  poetry,  denounced  the 
Food  Controller  to  Kate,  in  company  with  a  friend 
lavished  praise  on  the  poetic  dramas  of  Mr.  Yeats, 
made  wise  statements  about  the  cooking  of  mutton- 
chops,  criticised  the  opera  company  at  the  Gaiety 
Theatre,  and  having  invented  a  whole  new  evening 
attire  for  a  few  shillings  as  she  cleaned  the  stair 
rods,  imparted  it  between  each  vigorous  rub  in 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  195 

broken  mutterings  to  Molly.  Fresh  thoughts  and 
ideas  winged  their  way  through  her  mind  like  the 
rapid  flight  of  birds.  Indeed,  in  her  active  intelli- 
gence and  quick  grasp  of  her  subject  she  greatly 
resembled  Kate,  requiring  a  crowd  of  acquaint- 
ances with  whom  she  could  discuss  these  swift 
travellers. 

Quite  inadvertently,  with  a  few  light  words,  she 
had  helped  to  shape  a  destiny  that  morning.  For 
discussion  is  not  always  born  in  Dublin  —  as  is  the 
common  belief  —  merely  to  fly  up  the  chimney  and 
evaporate  with  the  smoke.  Kate's  mind  was  made 
up.  The  words  "  You  need  never  mind  breaking 
a  man's  heart,  for  what  there  is  of  it  is  easily 
mended  "  had  decided  her.  She  had  no  doubt 
now  as  to  the  course  of  action  it  was  necessary 
to  take;  it  was  all  quite  simple;  it  was  strange 
it  had  not  occurred  to  her  before. 

She  must  destroy  this  web  of  memories  — 
throw  them  off  her.  They  were  sucking  all  the 
sweetness  out  of  her  life  and  coming  between  her 
and  her  work.  She  must  never  think  of  Drouma- 
valla  or  Eugene  again. 

The  letter  required  much  writing  and  rewriting, 
and  when,  after  two  sleepless  nights,  it  was  finally 
composed  and  penned  it  scarcely  covered  a  half 
sheet  of  paper. 

DEAR  EUGENE  —  It  was  good  of  you  to  write  to  me.  But 
I  never  will  change  my  mind,  and  I  do  not  want  to  hear  from 
you  or  see  you  again.  KATE. 

This  letter,  once  it  was  despatched,  gave  her 
great  relief.  She  could  put  all  her  dark  memories 
behind  her  now  and  take  pleasure  in  the  pleasant 


196  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

life  that  stretched  before  her.  And  late  one  even- 
ing she  believed  she  had  done  for  ever  with  the 
past  when  the  last  red  cinder  of  the  fire  devoured 
his  poor  scrap  of  writing. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ONE  evening,  on  Kate's  invitation,  1316  dropped 
in  for  an  hour  or  so,  bringing  with  him  his  friend 
James  Delaney,  a  plain-clothes  detective.  James 
had  an  unassuming  appearance,  a  pale  earnest  face 
and  the  pleasing  manners  of  a  shop-walker  in  a 
rather  select  establishment.  Kate  monopolised 
him  as  she  always  quite  unconsciously  monopolised 
every  fresh  visitor  to  the  kitchen.  She  was  re- 
warded on  this  occasion  by  the  personal  reminis- 
cences of  the  detective;  he  had  had  one  great 
adventure  in  his  life;  he  had  tracked  a  murderer 
to  his  lair,  the  murderer  had  shown  fight,  and 
after  a  desperate  struggle  in  which  a  knife 
was  used,  he,  James  Delaney,  had  overcome  him. 
Kate  was  greatly  excited  by  this  tale.  She  insisted 
on  its  being  told  to  her  twice  over,  and  then  cross- 
questioned  James  at  length.  How  much  blood 
was  spilt?  What  was  the  nature  of  the  knife 
used?  Was  it  a  carving  knife  or  a  bread  knife? 
Had  the  villain  a  squint  or  was  he  pockmarked? 
Did  his  moustaches  turn  upwards  like  black  wings? 
Did  he  welter  in  his  gore? 

The  reply  of  the  hero  was  of  a  long  and  in- 
teresting nature,  and  speaking  with  a  manly  blunt- 
ness  he  managed  to  convey  to  Kate  his  fearless 
indifference  to  danger.  She  had  at  first  been  a 
little  contemptuous  of  him  because  he  wore  the 

197 


198  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

clothes  of  a  civilian  and  did  not  show  his  colours, 
because  of  his  narrow  shoulders  and  poor  phy- 
sique, but  his  resource  in  the  face  of  death  caused 
her  to  withdraw  her  objections,  and  she  began  to 
admire  this  humble  individual,  who  told  his  story 
so  quietly,  without  any  boastful  expressions  or 
exaggerated  gestures.  1316  might  take  a  lesson 
from  him  she  thought,  and  she  eyed  him  tenta- 
tively. She  was  struck  by  the  fact  that  for  once 
in  his  life  his  tongue  was  not  clacking,  he  was 
fingering  his  moustache  and  gazing  ruminatively 
at  Molly's  neck,  at  least  so  it  seemed;  and  Molly's 
eyes  were  cast  down,  her  simple  knot  of  hair  at 
the  back  of  her  head  cocking  a  little  in  the  air. 
Kate  was  sorry  Molly  was  so  inattentive.  Per- 
haps she  had  a  headache,  for  there  was  a  bright 
colour  in  her  cheeks.  Anyway  it  must  be  a  dull 
evening  for  Tom.  He,  too,  looked  unwell;  there 
was  a  kind  of  hot  glare  in  his  eyes  that  surprised 
Kate  and  made  her  feel  a  little  anxious  for  him. 
It  was  a  pity  Molly  did  not  make  an  effort  to 
entertain  him;  she  herself  was  far  too  interested 
in  Mr.  Delaney  to  be  able  to  spare  any  time  for 
Tom,  and  she  continued  her  conversation  with  the 
former  until  he  rose  to  go. 

During  the  evening  Molly  felt  confused  and 
strangely  excited.  Why  did  1316  keep  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  neck?  Why  was  the  simplest 
conversation  beyond  her  powers?  She  asked  her- 
self these  questions  and  felt  anxious  and  disturbed 
when  he  drew  nearer  to  her,  breathing  rather 
loudly  as  if  from  suspended  emotion,  and  the 
answer  became  plain  to  her.  As  soon  as  Kate 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  199 

closed  the  door  behind  her  and  went  up  the  area 
steps  in  company  with  Mr.  Delaney,  she  wanted 
very  badly  to  fly  from  the  kitchen,  to  fly  from 
the  possibility  that  answer  suggested.  But  1316 
was  on  his  feet,  standing  beside  her,  and  speaking 
in  a  halting  whisper,  and  she  had  to  give  him  all 
her  attention. 

"I  —  I'm  after  buying  you  a  little  brooch,  Miss 
Mulquiney.  Would  you  accept  it  from  me?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know.     What  would  Kate  say?  " 

"  She'll  say  nothing.  Don't  tell  her  I  gave  it 
to  you.  It'll  be  a  kind  of  secret  between  us. 
Look,  now;  it's  called  'The  Lucky  Black  Cat 
Brooch,'  and  the  young  man  that  sold  it  to  me 
said  '  it  had  Parisian  diamond  eyes  and  would 
bring  luck  to  any  one  that  wore  it.'  It's  real  bog 
oak,  Miss  Mulquiney;  it's  no  sham." 

All  this  was  very  embarrassing.  Molly  took 
the  large  black  brooch  with  the  shining  bits  of 
glass  in  it  between  her  fingers  and  eyed  it  timidly 
as  if  it  had  some  dangerous  and  explosive  quality. 
She  wondered  if  she  ought  to  accept  such  a  gift 
and  at  the  same  time  she  felt  overwhelmed  by  the 
generosity  of  the  great  man.  It  had  cost  at  least 
half-a-crown.  Any  one  with  an  eye  for  bog  oak 
could  tell  that  from  its  size. 

"Will  you  pin  it  on  you?"  he  inquired  awk- 
wardly. 

"  Oh,  it's  too  elegant  for  me,  Mr.  Casey!  "  she 
replied,  and  then  her  fingers  closed  tightly  over  it 
as  he  drew  back  quickly  from  her  and  they  both 
turned  their  gaze  towards  the  door  where  Kate 
was  standing. 


200  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

She  came  forward  with  a  smile  and  pressed  him 
to  sit  down  again  and  stay  with  them  a  little 
longer;  but  he  bade  them  both  a  brusque  good- 
bye, and  taking  up  his  hat  and  cane  marched  out 
of  the  kitchen. 

Kate  felt  annoyed  with  Molly  for  having  failed 
to  entertain  him  and  annoyed  with  herself  for 
having  offended  him.  She  was  certain  she  had 
given  offence,  for  it  was  not  his  habit  to  take  him- 
self off  at  such  an  early  hour.  She  determined  to 
be  especially  nice  to  him  the  next  time  he  called 
and  thus  make  up  for  her  persistent  neglect  of 
his  company. 

A  few  days  later  an  opportunity  for  such  a 
reconciliation  presented  itself.  Curiously  enough 
1316  made  his  appearance  on  Tuesday  evening, 
the  one  evening  in  the  week  she  was  sure  to  be 
going  out.  However,  it  was  worth  while  sacri- 
ficing her  free  night  if  she  could  re-establish  their 
friendship  upon  the  old  footing.  She  was  the 
more  anxious  to  do  so  because  she  had  to  a  certain 
extent  exhausted  the  possibilities  of  her  other  male 
acquaintances  and  had  discovered  that  there  was 
only  one  theme  upon  which  Mr.  James  Delaney 
could  converse.  He  was  never  tired  of  relating 
his  tale  of  the  capture  of  the  murderer.  Kate 
might  talk  about  the  War,  the  price  of  onions, 
literature  in  general,  personal  acquaintances,  and 
the  spraying  of  potatoes,  he  invariably  replied  with 
a  description  of  his  own  clear-headed  coolness 
in  the  "  face  of  death."  Conversation  with  him 
was  therefore  impossible. 

1316  had  his  little  weaknesses,  but  at  any  rate 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  £01 

he  could  discuss  any  subject  in  the  universe  with 
ease  and  fluency.  So  Kate,  desiring  his  com- 
panionship, spread  out  her  nets  for  him  again. 

To  her  great  astonishment  she  discovered  he 
had  never  made  the  acquaintance  of  Erin's  Own. 
This  remarkable  periodical  describes  itself  as  "  a 
journal  of  fiction,  literature  and  general  informa- 
tion." It  is  better  value  than  the  best  evening 
paper  containing  as  it  does  "  post-card  stories," 
prize  tales,  anecdotes,  sentimental  poetry,  racing 
tips,  advice  about  cookery,  the  use  of  Condy's 
fluid  and  the  creation  of  jugged  steak,  several 
columns  wholly  devoted  to  fashion,  gossip,  garden- 
ing and  chats  with  the  doctor,  useful  information 
as  to  how  to  make  ironing  easy,  short  snappy 
articles  about  fish  beef  and  the  nature  of  glucose, 
storiettes,  fiction  suited  to  every  class  of  reader, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  a  serial  of  a  painfully  ex- 
citing nature.  All  these  themes  were  adequately 
dealt  with  in  one  number  which  cost  twopence, 
and  1316  had  to  admit  that  seven  evening  papers 
did  not  equal  it  in  interest  and  in  entertainment. 

"  There's  a  grand  story  that's  been  running 
through  it  a  long  while  called  '  Dicing  with 
Death,'  "  said  Kate;  "  it's  all  about  an  American 
heiress.  Terry  the  Irishman  and  Kid  Power  the 
aeroplanist  were  cracked  about  her.  She  was 
snapped  away  by  a  black  gang;  they  whipped  her 
off  to  the  country.  But  Kid  Power  was  the 
tough  fellow;  they  couldn't  bet  him.  Her  wicked 
uncle  made  holes  in  a  boat  and  when  she  went  out 
on  the  lake  the  boat  began  to  sink,  but  Kid 
swooped  down  in  his  aeroplane  and  rescued  her." 


202  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"That  sounds  good,"  1316  remarked  reflec- 
tively. "  I  like  to  read  about  a  chap  that  knows 
how  to  use  them  flying  machines.  I  wonder  now 
could  I  catch  on  to  the  story.  You  say  it's  been 
going  a  long  while." 

"  Ah,  sure,  I  can  put  you  right  about  it,  and  I 
can  give  you  a  loan  of  the  old  numbers.  There's 
only  one  bit  I  haven't  got.  Molly  lit  the  fire 
with  it  in  the  morning.  It  was  about  Terry 
having  dinner  with  the  heiress  in  a  hotel  in  New 
York.  His  coffee  was  drugged  by  a  black  waiter, 
and  the  black  gang  carried  him  off  to  a  house  in 
a  back  street  where  they  wanted  to  drown  him  in 
a  bath.  Kid  Power  followed  in  a  motor-car  and 
got  into  the  house,  and  he  heard  the  water  drawing 
and  was  in  a  terrible  state  for  fear  Terry  would  be 
drowned.  He  was  in  the  room  underneath,  and 
he  bored  a  hole  through  the  ceiling  by  means  of 
an  awl  and  let  the  water  run  down  that  way. 
Then  he  put  his  head  through  the  hole  and  covered 
the  black  gang  with  his  revolver.  And  he  leaped 
up  through  it,  and  bound  one  man  and  killed  the 
other.  And  Belle  was  carried  off  to  Lakelands 
by  her  wicked  uncle,  she  was  the  heiress  and  he'd 
get  her  money  if  she  married  without  his  consent 
before  she  was  twenty-one.  Oh,  there's  a  deal 
more  that  happened,  but  it's  best  for  you  to  read  it 
yourself." 

1316  was  mightily  impressed  by  the  amazing 
cleverness  of  Kid  in  boring  a  bole  with  an  awl 
and  making  it  wide  enough  for  his  body  to  pass 
through,  and  doing  all  this  so  quietly  the  black 
gang  noticed  nothing,  though  they  were  actually 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  187 

Occasionally,  in  her  leisure  moments,  in  spite 
of  a  large  and  growing  circle  of  acquaintances, 
Kate  suffered  from  a  stupid  ache  that  took  the 
form  of  a  craving  for  country  life  and  country  oc- 
cupations —  the  rearing  of  ducks  and  geese,  the 
collection  of  eggs,  all  the  interesting  and  intricate 
problems  connected  with  the  hen-house  and  the 
chicken-coop,  milking  and  churning,  the  lore  of 
crops  and  weather,  the  ever  varying  difficulties 
that  have  to  be  faced  and  overcome  with  each 
fresh  season.  Sometimes  she  hungered  merely  for 
the  colours  of  the  fields,  the  lights  upon  the  rolling 
country,  dark  earth  turned  up  by  the  plough,  the 
lowing  of  cattle,  and  the  call  of  birds.  If  there 
were  no  company  at  hand  this  hunger  could  often 
be  cured  by  her  occupying  her  mind  with  research. 
She  would  either  pore  over  that  remarkable  fash- 
ion paper  Vogue,  which  was  lent  her  by  Mrs. 
Barry,  or  she  would  go  out  and  gaze  at  the  win- 
dows of  draper's  shop  after  draper's  shop  until 
the  pain  was  stilled. 

There  were  times  when,  tired  of  designing  cos- 
tumes for  other  people,  she  would  concentrate 
upon  herself,  devising  a  multiplicity  of  dresses  of 
every  shade  and  hue.  Then,  if  she  had  a  free 
afternoon,  it  was  her  custom  to  cross  town  to 
Henry  Street,  where  drapers'  shops  abound  and 
where  prices  are  of  not  too  disturbing  a  nature. 

Arnott's,  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  street,  was 
rather  too  expensive  from  her  point  of  view, 
though  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  walk  straight 
past  it  and  always  stopped  to  scrutinise  its  wares. 
She  had  an  unquenchable  passion  for  checks,  and 


188  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

in  one  particular  season  there  was  a  whole  window 
full  of  checks  to  contemplate  with  the  label  "  As 
worn  "  on  each  one  of  them.  Of  these  a  lovely 
purple  and  dark  red  material  pleased  her  most,  and 
she  went  there  merely  for  the  purpose  of  gazing 
at  it  on  twelve  separate  occasions.  Unfortu- 
nately, it  was  beyond  her  means,  but  she  could  bear 
away  precious  memories  of  it,  and  in  hours  of 
moodiness  killed  the  ache  for  farm  life  and  farm 
work  with  its  gorgeous  stripe. 

On  the  opposite  side,  a  little  farther  down, 
Henry  Street  Warehouse  beckoned  to  her.  Here 
a  brilliant  display  of  blouses  enchanted  the  eye; 
they  were  in  the  bright  colours  Kate  loved  and 
were  both  "  snug  "  and  "  cute  "  in  her  opinion. 
Each  one  was  mysteriously  enhanced  in  value  by 
an  attractive  label  setting  forth  its  origin ;  and  the 
words  "  Paris  Model  "  and  "  Exclusive  Model  " 
were  enough  to  set  her  heart  beating  rapidly. 

She  was  sorely  tempted  by  a  blouse  of  salmon 
pink  styled  "  For  dinner  wear."  If  the  necessary 
money  had  been  lying  in  her  purse  she  would  have 
walked  into  the  warehouse  and  purchased  this 
superb  creation  the  first  day  she  laid  eyes  on  it. 
As  she  never  dined  out  there  would  have  been  an 
especial  gratification  in  wearing  a  garment  others 
might  have  worn  for  that  purpose.  Unfortu- 
nately, her  purse  did  not  fill  up  sufficiently  rapidly, 
and  one  afternoon  the  salmon  pink  was  whipped 
from  off  the  lay  figure  by  a  ruthless  shopgirl  and 
the  place  of  its  glory  knew  it  no  more. 

Kate,  however,  was  soon  comforted.     She  dis- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  189 

covered  at  the  Melba  House  in  Merrion  Row 
a  dress  that  was  a  feast  to  the  eye,  that  eclipsed 
all  other  creations  she  had  known.  The  Melba 
House  had  the  advantage  of  being  opposite 
the  Co-operative  shop  which  she  visited  several 
mornings  in  the  week  in  order  to  purchase  sundry 
articles  of  food  for  the  household;  it  also  had  the 
advantage  of  being  one  of  the  most  interesting 
and  striking  draper's  establishments  in  the  city  of 
Dublin.  For  there  was  always  a  sale  going  on; 
other  shops  had  summer  sales  and  autumn  sales; 
this  one  made  every  day  of  the  year  notable  by 
offering  to  the  passing  throng  to  sell  off  its  goods 
at  enormous  reductions.  After-season  sales, 
autumn,  summer  and  winter  sales,  red-letter  and 
anniversary  sales  divided  up  the  seasons  for  it. 
Its  philanthropy  stirred  the  cynical  heart  and 
even  caught  the  attention  and  often  the  custom 
of  those  ladies  who  deal  with  the  firms  their 
grandparents  dealt  with,  who  bind  themselves 
in  the  folly  of  ancestor  worship  to  hereditary 
butchers,  bakers  and  drapers.  After  all,  if  they 
did  fall  before  temptation  nearly  every  article 
in  the  window  of  the  Melba  was  a  "  give  away." 
Here  was  a  sky-blue  "  crepe  de  Chine  blouse  for 
2s.  i  id.,  worth  295.,"  there  were  beautiful  gloves, 
"  throw-offs  from  the  manufacturers,  price  2s. 
i  id.,  value  55.  nd.  up  to  155."  It  was  not 
surprising,  therefore,  that  at  all  hours  of  the 
day  a  sprinkling  of  women  with  lean  anxious  faces 
stood  there  as  if  rooted  to  the  pavement  in  an 
ecstasy  of  contemplation. 


190  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  dress  that  Kate  admired  was  a  flowered 
silk  with  a  white  ground.  There  were  great 
cauliflowers  the  colour  of  beetroot  spread  over  it, 
pale  pink  flowers  in  shape  resembling  lilies  and 
many  others  not  known  in  the  botanical  world 
were  mingled  with  them.  The  designer  of  the 
frock  had  evidently  possessed  a  prodigal  imagi- 
nation. All  possible  and  impossible  colours  had 
been  used  by  him  in  this  tropical  vegetation;  his 
had  been  no  niggardly  mind,  and  his  effects  were 
of  a  satisfying  brilliance.  They  gave  consolation 
to  Kate  when  at  this  time  an  annoyance  of  an 
unforeseen  kind  beset  her,  disturbing  the  even  flow 
of  her  life. 

The  disturbance  was  caused  by  a  letter  from 
Eugene,  a  letter  that  brought  back  memories  of 
Droumavalla,  the  desolate  farm  and  the  old  people 
who  lived  in  it.  She  felt  injured  and  distressed. 
He  had  no  right  to  attempt  to  communicate  with 
her  after  the  way  she  had  spoken  to  him.  But  she 
read  and  re-read  the  little  scrap  of  writing  penned 
by  a  stiff  muscular  hand  and  carried  it  about  until 
it  was  nearly  worn  out  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress. 

"DEAR  KATE,"  it  ran,  "How  are  you  getting  on?  I  suppose 
you  know  a  crowd  of  high  up  people  in  Dublin  now.  It's 
strange  and  lonesome  here  and  the  quiet  would  put  the  heart 
across  you  sometimes.  The  work  is  very  heavy  with  only  a  boy 
to  help  me.  Mother  is  in  bed  altogether  now  and  the  old 
man  is  like  a  raging  bull.  I  can  please  him  no  ways  at  all. 
Bedad,  then,  it's  glad  in  my  heart  I'd  be  to  see  a  bit  of  your 
writing  if  you'd  a  moment  to  spare. 

"  I'm  thinking  I'm  getting  queer  with  the  loneliness.  The 
old  man  goes  to  the  fairs,  to  Middleton  and  to  Cork,  and  I 
haven't  the  heart  or  the  time  itself  to  go  over  to  the  village. 
So  I  have  no  one  to  talk  to  at  all. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  191 

"  I  will  be  watching  for  the  posts  now.  So  do  not  be  for- 
getting me. 

"EUGENE  TURPIN. 

"  P'S. —  Do  you  remember  the  word  we  had  ?  Would  you 
be  changing  your  mind  sometime,  do  you  think?  For  I  will 
never  be  changing  mine." 

There  was  little  enough  in  the  letter  and  yet  it 
told  all.  Eugene  was  suffering,  and  it  pained 
Kate  to  think  of  him  so.  It  was  quite  wrong 
that  such  a  gentle,  fine  young  man  should  be  un- 
happy, with  no  one  to  talk  to,  should  be  living 
there  all  by  his  lone.  And  then  her  pity  would 
turn  to  anger.  It  was  his  own  fault.  Why  was 
he  so  weak?  Why  would  he  not  stand  up  to  his 
father?  Why  did  he  allow  himself  to  be 
trampled  on  by  that  old  brute?  There  was  no 
strength,  no  good  in  him  at  all.  She  had  nothing 
to  reproach  herself  with  for  refusing  him.  She 
could  not  have  borne  such  a  life  under  the  old 
man's  heel,  afraid  to  say  a  word  to  him,  compelled 
to  obey  his  outrageous  commands  because  of 
Eugene.  But  far  more  bitter  to  her  would  have 
been  her  sense  of  the  latter's  weakness,  and  daily 
companionship  would  have  made  it  more  and  more 
apparent.  He  was  only  half  a  man,  and  yet  re- 
minded her  continually  of  the  brothers  who  were 
gone.  He  was  their  shadow,  not  their  real  self, 
and  had  all  a  shadow's  deformities. 

In  spite  of  these  thoughts  Kate  read  his  letter 
every  day  until  she  knew  the  words  by  heart  and 
could  repeat  them  over  to  herself;  and  with  each 
sentence  a  picture  came  into  her  mind  of  the  day's 
doings  —  Eugene  driving  in  the  cows  through  the 
grey  morning,  drawing  a  white  stream  of  milk 


192  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

from  them,  driving  them  back  into  the  fields 
again.  After  that  there  were  the  calves  and  pigs 
to  be  fed,  and  later  land  to  be  ploughed  up  —  no 
rest  for  him  till  dark  came  again.  He  dreaded 
a  long  day  of  heavy  ploughing  because  of  his  lame- 
ness and  because  of  the  scourge  of  his  father's 
tongue.  She  hated  to  think  of  him  bearing  the  old 
man's  abuse  in  sullen  silence,  painfully  limping  up 
the  long  furrow,  hated  to  think  of  him  sitting  in 
the  lonely  kitchen  of  a  winter  evening  worn  out 
with  the  day's  toil,  neither  gratitude  nor  even 
recognition  of  his  labour  falling  to  his  share. 
And  her  mind  was  full  of  these  pictures  of  him 
borne  upon  the  wings  of  his  written  word,  and 
peace  and  happiness  fled  from  her. 

4  The  master's  down  this  half  hour  and  the 
breakfast's  not  cooked!  Sure  I  might  as  well 
be  yoked  with  a  cabbage,  and  I  working  with 
you."  The  irritation  in  Molly's  voice  roused 
Kate  from  one  of  the  reveries  that  had  so 
frequently  fallen  on  her  of  late.  She  did  not 
answer  back,  feeling  the  justice  of  this  last  remark, 
and  hurried  with  her  work,  making  up  by  im- 
moderate speed  for  the  few  minutes  when  her 
mind  was  away. 

Later,  when  the  kitchen  breakfast  and  the  up- 
stairs breakfast  were  over  and  the  mistress  had 
come  down  to  order  the  dinner  and  consult  about 
the  domestic  economy  of  the  household,  Kate  de- 
termined to  seek  counsel  from  her  if  an  oppor- 
tunity presented  itself.  It  would  not  be  sought 
in  a  serious  way  which  would  lead  her  to  suspect 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  193 

something  was  amiss,  but  in  a  half-joking  manner 
disguised  in  the  cloak  of  pleasant  small  talk. 

When  the  meals  had  been  disposed  of,  she 
cunningly  led  up  to  her  theme  by  making  certain 
broad  statements  about  mankind  in  general,  and 
then  narrowing  them  down  into  a  history  of  the 
shoemaker. 

"  Henessy  is  a  queer  kind  of  man,"  she  was 
saying.  "  He  has  three  children,  and  he's  after 
burying  a  wife.  The  day  of  the  funeral  he  was 
bawling  crying,  asking  them  to  bury  him  with  her, 
and  the  very  next  day  he  was  looking  for  a  new 
wife  to  sit  on  his  hearth.  And  when  I  held  up 
the  old  wife  to  him  and  asked  him  if  he  wasn't 
ashamed  of  himself  to  be  in  that  hurry,  says  he  to 
me, '  Well,  and  isn't  she  as  dead  as  she'll  ever  be?  ' 
Would  you  believe  that  now?  Oh,  Lord,  he's 
dangerous." 

"  Indeed  he  is,"  commented  Mrs.  Barry. 
"  You'd  better  avoid  him." 

"  Oh,  he's  a  decent  enough  little  bit  of  a  fellow, 
with  a  band  of  crape  in  his  hat  that  deep  " — 
Kate  illustrated  its  width  with  an  outspread  thumb 
and  forefinger  — "  and  a  head  as  red  as  the  centre 
of  the  fire.  But  what  kind  of  a  heart  can  he 
have  at  all?  " 

"  As  much  as  most  men  have,  and  that's  little 
enough,"  replied  Mrs.  Barry,  shaking  her  head 
with  a  laugh. 

"  But  sure  they're  very  quick  to  tell  you  they're 
breaking  it  for  you,  aren't  they  now?  "  said  Kate 
with  simulated  lightness. 


194  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  I  expect  you've  great  experience.  You  must 
have  broken  some  in  your  time,  Kate." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  about  that.  It's  queer 
and  easy,  ma'am,  to  be  breaking  a  man's  heart. 
Sure,  I  never  broke  mine  at  all  and  never  will." 

"  Of  one  thing  you  may  be  quite  sure,"  said 
Mrs.  Barry  in  the  same  light  way,  "  you  need 
never  mind  breaking  a  man's  heart,  for  what  there 
is  of  it  is  very  easily  mended." 

"  I  suppose  that's  really  so,"  was  her  listener's 
speculative  reply. 

"  Of  course  it  is.  Oh,  there's  nothing  in  the 
world  more  easily  mended,"  the  other  continued 
gaily,  "  so  if  you're  not  serious  yourself  you 
needn't  have  any  qualms  about  sending  him  off 
at  once.  They  tell  me  you  can  get  sausages 
threepence  a  pound  cheaper  in  Richmond  Street. 
Wouldn't  it  be  well  to  try  there  when  you're  out 
to-day? "  It  was  Mrs.  Barry's  habit  to  leap 
abruptly  from  one  subject  into  another.  Sausages 
and  human  hearts  she  would  heap  together  in  the 
same  breath,  never  attempting  to  sort  them  and 
deliver  them  in  their  own  time  and  place.  In  the 
space  of  one  quarter  of  an  hour  in  the  morning 
she  had  frequently  discussed  with  her  husband  the 
shallow  ugliness  of  imagist  poetry,  denounced  the 
Food  Controller  to  Kate,  in  company  with  a  friend 
lavished  praise  on  the  poetic  dramas  of  Mr.  Yeats, 
made  wise  statements  about  the  cooking  of  mutton- 
chops,  criticised  the  opera  company  at  the  Gaiety 
Theatre,  and  having  invented  a  whole  new  evening 
attire  for  a  few  shillings  as  she  cleaned  the  stair 
rods,  imparted  it  between  each  vigorous  rub  in 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  195 

broken  mutterings  to  Molly.  Fresh  thoughts  and 
ideas  winged  their  way  through  her  mind  like  the 
rapid  flight  of  birds.  Indeed,  in  her  active  intelli- 
gence and  quick  grasp  of  her  subject  she  greatly 
resembled  Kate,  requiring  a  crowd  of  acquaint- 
ances with  whom  she  could  discuss  these  swift 
travellers. 

Quite  inadvertently,  with  a  few  light  words,  she 
had  helped  to  shape  a  destiny  that  morning.  For 
discussion  is  not  always  born  in  Dublin  —  as  is  the 
common  belief  —  merely  to  fly  up  the  chimney  and 
evaporate  with  the  smoke.  Kate's  mind  was  made 
up.  The  words  "  You  need  never  mind  breaking 
a  man's  heart,  for  what  there  is  of  it  is  easily 
mended  "  had  decided  her.  She  had  no  doubt 
now  as  to  the  course  of  action  it  was  necessary 
to  take;  it  was  all  quite  simple;  it  was  strange 
it  had  not  occurred  to  her  before. 

She  must  destroy  this  web  of  memories  — 
throw  them  off  her.  They  were  sucking  all  the 
sweetness  out  of  her  life  and  coming  between  her 
and  her  work.  She  must  never  think  of  Drouma- 
valla  or  Eugene  again. 

The  letter  required  much  writing  and  rewriting, 
and  when,  after  two  sleepless  nights,  it  was  finally 
composed  and  penned  it  scarcely  covered  a  half 
sheet  of  paper. 

DEAR  EUGENE  —  It  was  good  of  you  to  write  to  me.  But 
I  never  will  change  my  mind,  and  I  do  not  want  to  hear  from 
you  or  see  you  again.  KATE. 

This  letter,  once  it  was  despatched,  gave  her 
great  relief.  She  could  put  all  her  dark  memories 
behind  her  now  and  take  pleasure  in  the  pleasant 


196  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

life  that  stretched  before  her.  And  late  one  even- 
ing she  believed  she  had  done  for  ever  with  the 
past  when  the  last  red  cinder  of  the  fire  devoured 
his  poor  scrap  of  writing. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ONE  evening,  on  Kate's  invitation,  1316  dropped 
in  for  an  hour  or  so,  bringing  with  him  his  friend 
James  Delaney,  a  plain-clothes  detective.  James 
had  an  unassuming  appearance,  a  pale  earnest  face 
and  the  pleasing  manners  of  a  shop-walker  in  a 
rather  select  establishment.  Kate  monopolised 
him  as  she  always  quite  unconsciously  monopolised 
every  fresh  visitor  to  the  kitchen.  She  was  re- 
warded on  this  occasion  by  the  personal  reminis- 
cences of  the  detective;  he  had  had  one  great 
adventure  in  his  life;  he  had  tracked  a  murderer 
to  his  lair,  the  murderer  had  shown  fight,  and 
after  a  desperate  struggle  in  which  a  knife 
was  used,  he,  James  Delaney,  had  overcome  him. 
Kate  was  greatly  excited  by  this  tale.  She  insisted 
on  its  being  told  to  her  twice  over,  and  then  cross- 
questioned  James  at  length.  How  much  blood 
was  spilt?  What  was  the  nature  of  the  knife 
used?  Was  it  a  carving  knife  or  a  bread  knife? 
Had  the  villain  a  squint  or  was  he  pockmarked? 
Did  his  moustaches  turn  upwards  like  black  wings? 
Did  he  welter  in  his  gore? 

The  reply  of  the  hero  was  of  a  long  and  in- 
teresting nature,  and  speaking  with  a  manly  blunt- 
ness  he  managed  to  convey  to  Kate  his  fearless 
indifference  to  danger.  She  had  at  first  been  a 
little  contemptuous  of  him  because  he  wore  the 

197 


198  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

clothes  of  a  civilian  and  did  not  show  his  colours, 
because  of  his  narrow  shoulders  and  poor  phy- 
sique, but  his  resource  in  the  face  of  death  caused 
her  to  withdraw  her  objections,  and  she  began  to 
admire  this  humble  individual,  who  told  his  story 
so  quietly,  without  any  boastful  expressions  or 
exaggerated  gestures.  1316  might  take  a  lesson 
from  him  she  thought,  and  she  eyed  him  tenta- 
tively. She  was  struck  by  the  fact  that  for  once 
in  his  life  his  tongue  was  not  clacking,  he  was 
fingering  his  moustache  and  gazing  ruminatively 
at  Molly's  neck,  at  least  so  it  seemed;  and  Molly's 
eyes  were  cast  down,  her  simple  knot  of  hair  at 
the  back  of  her  head  cocking  a  little  in  the  air. 
Kate  was  sorry  Molly  was  so  inattentive.  Per- 
haps she  had  a  headache,  for  there  was  a  bright 
colour  in  her  cheeks.  Anyway  it  must  be  a  dull 
evening  for  Tom.  He,  too,  looked  unwell;  there 
was  a  kind  of  hot  glare  in  his  eyes  that  surprised 
Kate  and  made  her  feel  a  little  anxious  for  him. 
It  was  a  pity  Molly  did  not  make  an  effort  to 
entertain  him;  she  herself  was  far  too  interested 
in  Mr.  Delaney  to  be  able  to  spare  any  time  for 
Tom,  and  she  continued  her  conversation  with  the 
former  until  he  rose  to  go. 

During  the  evening  Molly  felt  confused  and 
strangely  excited.  Why  did  1316  keep  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  neck?  Why  was  the  simplest 
conversation  beyond  her  powers?  She  asked  her- 
self these  questions  and  felt  anxious  and  disturbed 
when  he  drew  nearer  to  her,  breathing  rather 
loudly  as  if  from  suspended  emotion,  and  the 
answer  became  plain  to  her.  As  soon  as  Kate 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  199 

closed  the  door  behind  her  and  went  up  the  area 
steps  in  company  with  Mr.  Delaney,  she  wanted 
very  badly  to  fly  from  the  kitchen,  to  fly  from 
the  possibility  that  answer  suggested.  But  1316 
was  on  his  feet,  standing  beside  her,  and  speaking 
in  a  halting  whisper,  and  she  had  to  give  him  all 
her  attention. 

"I  —  I'm  after  buying  you  a  little  brooch,  Miss 
Mulquiney.  Would  you  accept  it  from  me?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know.     What  would  Kate  say?  " 

"  She'll  say  nothing.  Don't  tell  her  I  gave  it 
to  you.  It'll  be  a  kind  of  secret  between  us. 
Look,  now;  it's  called  'The  Lucky  Black  Cat 
Brooch,'  and  the  young  man  that  sold  it  to  me 
said  '  it  had  Parisian  diamond  eyes  and  would 
bring  luck  to  any  one  that  wore  it.'  It's  real  bog 
oak,  Miss  Mulquiney;  it's  no  sham." 

All  this  was  very  embarrassing.  Molly  took 
the  large  black  brooch  with  the  shining  bits  of 
glass  in  it  between  her  fingers  and  eyed  it  timidly 
as  if  it  had  some  dangerous  and  explosive  quality. 
She  wondered  if  she  ought  to  accept  such  a  gift 
and  at  the  same  time  she  felt  overwhelmed  by  the 
generosity  of  the  great  man.  It  had  cost  at  least 
half-a-crown.  Any  one  with  an  eye  for  bog  oak 
could  tell  that  from  its  size. 

"Will  you  pin  it  on  you?"  he  inquired  awk- 
wardly. 

"  Oh,  it's  too  elegant  for  me,  Mr.  Casey!  "  she 
replied,  and  then  her  fingers  closed  tightly  over  it 
as  he  drew  back  quickly  from  her  and  they  both 
turned  their  gaze  towards  the  door  where  Kate 
was  standing. 


200  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

She  came  forward  with  a  smile  and  pressed  him 
to  sit  down  again  and  stay  with  them  a  little 
longer;  but  he  bade  them  both  a  brusque  good- 
bye, and  taking  up  his  hat  and  cane  marched  out 
of  the  kitchen. 

Kate  felt  annoyed  with  Molly  for  having  failed 
to  entertain  him  and  annoyed  with  herself  for 
having  offended  him.  She  was  certain  she  had 
given  offence,  for  it  was  not  his  habit  to  take  him- 
self off  at  such  an  early  hour.  She  determined  to 
be  especially  nice  to  him  the  next  time  he  called 
and  thus  make  up  for  her  persistent  neglect  of 
his  company. 

A  few  days  later  an  opportunity  for  such  a 
reconciliation  presented  itself.  Curiously  enough 
1316  made  his  appearance  on  Tuesday  evening, 
the  one  evening  in  the  week  she  was  sure  to  be 
going  out.  However,  it  was  worth  while  sacri- 
ficing her  free  night  if  she  could  re-establish  their 
friendship  upon  the  old  footing.  She  was  the 
more  anxious  to  do  so  because  she  had  to  a  certain 
extent  exhausted  the  possibilities  of  her  other  male 
acquaintances  and  had  discovered  that  there  was 
only  one  theme  upon  which  Mr.  James  Delaney 
could  converse.  He  was  never  tired  of  relating 
his  tale  of  the  capture  of  the  murderer.  Kate 
might  talk  about  the  War,  the  price  of  onions, 
literature  in  general,  personal  acquaintances,  and 
the  spraying  of  potatoes,  he  invariably  replied  with 
a  description  of  his  own  clear-headed  coolness 
in  the  "  face  of  death."  Conversation  with  him 
was  therefore  impossible. 

1316  had  his  little  weaknesses,  but  at  any  rate 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  201 

he  could  discuss  any  subject  in  the  universe  with 
ease  and  fluency.  So  Kate,  desiring  his  com- 
panionship, spread  out  her  nets  for  him  again. 

To  her  great  astonishment  she  discovered  he 
had  never  made  the  acquaintance  of  Erin's  Own. 
This  remarkable  periodical  describes  itself  as  "  a 
journal  of  fiction,  literature  and  general  informa- 
tion." It  is  better  value  than  the  best  evening 
paper  containing  as  it  does  "  post-card  stories," 
prize  tales,  anecdotes,  sentimental  poetry,  racing 
tips,  advice  about  cookery,  the  use  of  Condy's 
fluid  and  the  creation  of  jugged  steak,  several 
columns  wholly  devoted  to  fashion,  gossip,  garden- 
ing and  chats  with  the  doctor,  useful  information 
as  to  how  to  make  ironing  easy,  shfbrt  snappy 
articles  about  fish  beef  and  the  nature  of  glucose, 
storiettes,  fiction  suited  to  every  class  of  reader, 
and  last,  but  not  least,  a  serial  of  a  painfully  ex- 
citing nature.  All  these  themes  were  adequately 
dealt  with  in  one  number  which  cost  twopence, 
and  1316  had  to  admit  that  seven  evening  papers 
did  not  equal  it  in  interest  and  in  entertainment. 

"  There's  a  grand  story  that's  been  running 
through  it  a  long  while  called  '  Dicing  with 
Death,'  "  said  Kate;  "  it's  all  about  an  American 
heiress.  Terry  the  Irishman  and  Kid  Power  the 
aeroplanist  were  cracked  about  her.  She  was 
snapped  away  by  a  black  gang;  they  whipped  her 
off  to  the  country.  But  Kid  Power  was  the 
tough  fellow;  they  couldn't  bet  him.  Her  wicked 
uncle  made  holes  in  a  boat  and  when  she  went  out 
on  the  lake  the  boat  began  to  sink,  but  Kid 
swooped  down  in  his  aeroplane  and  rescued  her." 


202  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"That  sounds  good,"  1316  remarked  reflec- 
tively. "  I  like  to  read  about  a  chap  that  knows 
how  to  use  them  flying  machines.  I  wonder  now 
could  I  catch  on  to  the  story.  You  say  it's  been 
going  a  long  while." 

"  Ah,  sure,  I  can  put  you  right  about  it,  and  I 
can  give  you  a  loan  of  the  old  numbers.  There's 
only  one  bit  I  haven't  got.  Molly  lit  the  fire 
with  it  in  the  morning.  It  was  about  Terry 
having  dinner  with  the  heiress  in  a  hotel  in  New 
York.  His  coffee  was  drugged  by  a  black  waiter, 
and  the  black  gang  carried  him  off  to  a  house  in 
a  back  street  where  they  wanted  to  drown  him  in 
a  bath.  Kid  Power  followed  in  a  motor-car  and 
got  into  the  house,  and  he  heard  the  water  drawing 
and  was  in  a  terrible  state  for  fear  Terry  would  be 
drowned.  He  was  in  the  room  underneath,  and 
he  bored  a  hole  through  the  ceiling  by  means  of 
an  awl  and  let  the  water  run  down  that  way. 
Then  he  put  his  head  through  the  hole  and  covered 
the  black  gang  with  his  revolver.  And  he  leaped 
up  through  it,  and  bound  one  man  and  killed  the 
other.  And  Belle  was  carried  off  to  Lakelands 
by  her  wicked  uncle,  she  was  the  heiress  and  he'd 
get  her  money  if  she  married  without  his  consent 
before  she  was  twenty-one.  Oh,  there's  a  deal 
more  that  happened,  but  it's  best  for  you  to  read  it 
yourself." 

1316  was  mightily  impressed  by  the  amazing 
cleverness  of  Kid  in  boring  a  hole  with  an  awl 
and  making  it  wide  enough  for  his  body  to  pass 
through,  and  doing  all  this  so  quietly  the  black 
gang  noticed  nothing,  though  they  were  actually 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  203 

standing  on  the  floor  that  was  pierced.  This 
cunning  and  valorous  deed  had  an  especial  appeal. 
1316  believed  it  was  quite  possible  that  he  himself 
as  a  guardian  of  the  law  might  have  to  deal  with 
a  black  gang  at  some  period  of  his  life.  It  was 
well  to  know  how  to  outwit  them;  and  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  study  closely  the  methods  of  Kid 
Power.  He  was  aware  that  Kate  was  waiting  for 
some  comment  from  him,  and  not  wishing  to  show 
how  deeply  he  had  been  moved  by  her  tale,  he 
remarked  with  a  calmly  detached  air:  "  '  Dicing 
with  Death  '  sounds  good  stuff.  'Tis  a  mighty 
long  experience  of  criminals  I  have,  and  I  can  tell 
you  it's  very  true  to  life.  Now  you  have  a  notion 
of  the  kind  of  dangers  myself  and  other  members 
of  the  force  are  in  every  hour  of  the  day.  Indeed, 
the  hand  of  the  assassin,  the  pistol  of  the  rogue 
would  be  always  at  our  throats  if  they  didn't  know 
well  the  kind  of  men  we  are." 

"  Oh,  faith,  you're  not  to  be  trifled  with,"  Kate 
admitted. 

"  That's  the  truth,"  replied  1316,  accepting  the 
compliment  with  a  gracious  wave  of  his  hand, 
and  handsomely  acknowledging  it  in  the  fashion 
of  the  southern  Irish  by  paying  her  one  in  return. 
"  Your  taste  is  very  genteel,  Kate.  Indeed,  I 
may  say  you've  an  eye  for  literature.  And  I  give 
you  my  word  the  Herald  would  call  '  Dicing  with 
Death  '  real  literature." 

"  It's  real  literature  and  no  mistake,"  said 
Kate  warmly.  "  I'm  after  reading  a  book  called 
Tess  by  a  chap  named  Hardy.  The  master  lent 
it  to  me  saying  it  was  grand  literature,  and  it 


204  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

was  good  stuff  right  enough.  But  'tisn't  up  to 
'  Dicing  with  Death.'  Erin's  Own  comes  out 
on  Friday,  and  I  can  tell  you  there  were  times  I 
hardly  lived  from  one  Friday  to  the  next.  And 
when  I  bought  it  I  wasn't  five  minutes  reading 
the  bit  of  the  story  that  was  in  it.  I  might  be 
out  shopping  in  the  evening  and  I'd  buy  it.  And 
nothing  would  keep  me  from  it.  If  my  tea  was 
poured  out  and  waiting  there  before  me  I'd  read 
it.  Only  a  ring  at  the  door  would  make  me  put 
it  down." 

1316  again  applauded  this  devotion  to  litera- 
ture, and  having  said  a  few  more  words  in  praise 
of  "  Dicing  with  Death,"  proceeded  to  lay  down 
the  law  with  regard  to  criminals  of  all  kinds  and 
descriptions,  instructing  Kate  in  their  methods, 
personal  appearance,  in  the  manner  in  which  they 
ate  their  food,  trimmed  their  nails,  cut  their  hair, 
washed  their  teeth  and  so  forth.  He  deplored 
the  ignorance  of  the  public,  and  denounced  the 
State  for  not  making  a  recognition  of  the  various 
types,  the  swindler,  the  murderer  and  the  thief, 
an  integral  part  of  the  education  of  the  infant  at 
the  National  School.  The  drawing-room  bell 
rang,  the  signal  for  the  removal  of  the  tea-tray, 
before  he  drew  breath,  dismissing  the  last  few 
bullet-headed  convicts  he  had  known  in  a  few  fine 
phrases. 

Molly  took  no  part  in  this  conversation.  She 
was  sitting  at  the  table  sewing,  and  as  time  went 
by  and  no  notice  was  taken  of  her  she  began  to 
feel  aggrieved.  She  had  taken  particular  pains 
with  her  hair  that  evening,  and  was  wearing  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  205 

bog  oak  brooch  which  showed  up  to  advantage 
against  the  whiteness  of  her  neck.  Yet  Tom  had 
not  once  turned  his  gaze  in  her  direction;  and  this 
neglect  sharpened  her  desire  for  even  a  little  of 
the  attention  he  had  bestowed  on  her  on  former 
occasions.  She  wondered  if  Kate  could  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  wash  up  the  tea-things;  there  were 
a  number  of  visitors  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
it  would  take  some  little  time,  and  would  keep 
her  conveniently  occupied  in  the  pantry.  So  when 
the  bell  rang,  though  it  was  her  evening  off,  Molly 
civilly  addressed  her: 

"  I'm  feeling  very  weakly  in  myself,  Kate. 
There  are  queer  aches  in  my  legs.  Will  you 
wash  up  the  tea-things  just  this  once  ...  ah,  do 
.  .  .  I'll  not  forget  it  to  you.  I'll  wash  up  every 
other  night  this  week." 

Kate  shook  her  head  very  decidedly,  replying, 
"  Sure  I'm  tired  too.  It's  your  turn,  up  with  you 
now,  and  don't  be  keeping  the  mistress  waiting." 

"  Just  this  once,"  Molly  pleaded. 

"  It's  your  night  for  the  tea,"  Kate  inexorably 
retorted.  "  So  hurry  on  now.  There  are  visitors 
above." 

Evidently  there  was  no  moving  Kate,  and  1316 
was  far  too  interested  in  her  conversation,  or 
rather  in  his  own  ideas  in  connection  with  it  and 
in  their  happy  expression,  to  give  a  glance  or  a 
thought  to  the  bog  oak  brooch  and  to  Molly.  She 
was  to  have  no  part  nor  lot  in  him  to-night,  that 
was  plain;  and  having  brought  down  the  tray  from 
the  drawing-room,  and  washed  up  with  a  noisy 
clatter,  she  retired  to  bed,  there  to  brood  upon 


206  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

the  insatiable  rapacity  of  Kate,  who  not  content 
with  the  admiration  and  attentions  of  James  De- 
laney  the  detective,  Joe  Spillane  the  sergeant, 
Henessy  the  shoemaker,  Jerry  Finny  the  cabman, 
Mr.  Fagan  the  grocer's  assistant,  and  sundry 
others,  had  annexed  1316  again.  There  was  of 
course  a  possibility  of  her  relinquishing  him.  She 
was  difficult  to  please  and  liked  variety  in  her 
companions.  But  as  the  days  went  by  it  became 
apparent  that  she  intended  to  retain  for  her  own 
particular  solace  and  entertainment  the  company 
of  this  handsome  member  of  the  force.  Though 
he  was  inclined  to  be  boastful  he  had,  thanks  to 
much  study  of  the  Herald,  a  great  many  more 
ideas  than  Kate's  other  acquaintances;  and  from 
the  time  she  lent  him  Erin's  Own  he  read  it  from 
cover  to  cover. 

She  sometimes  borrowed  books  from  Mr. 
Barry.  She  chose  them  herself;  and  at  one  time 
was  reading  The  Memoirs  of  Sarah  Bernhardt, 
at  another  Dead  Souls  by  Gogol,  and  Twenty- 
six  Men  and  a  Girl  by  Gorky.  She  was  at- 
tracted to  the  latter  volume  because  of  its  allur- 
ing title,  but  she  confided  in  1316  that  its  con- 
tents were  a  fraud  and  a  delusion,  and  that 
"  no  chap  "  had  a  right  to  bestow  such  a  remark- 
ably interesting  name  on  any  book  if  he  did  not 
intend  to  treat  the  theme  indicated  by  it  instead 
of  wandering  off  into  unnatural  obscurities.  She 
had  been  a  maid  in  a  house  in  New  York  in  which 
Sarah  Bernhardt  had  stayed;  and  her  Memoirs, 
as  well  as  the  other  volumes,  were  subjects  for 
much  pleasant  debate.  Tom  had  not  read  them, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  207 

and  yet  was  able  to  criticise  them  and  talk  about 
them  in  his  large  way,  mingling  with  his  observa- 
tions many  shrewd  comments  upon  the  universe  in 
general. 

He,  in  his  turn,  much  appreciated  Kate's  ready 
mind  and  conversational  powers,  and  now  that  she 
took  an  interest  in  him  whenever  he  paid  a  visit 
to  the  kitchen,  he  devoted  his  whole  time  to  her. 
She  had  some  compelling  power.  If  she  wished 
to  talk  to  him  he  had  to  go  over  to  her  and  sit 
beside  her,  though  he  had  not  forgotten  the  bog 
oak  brooch,  and  was  perfectly  aware  of  Molly's 
sombre  and  reproachful  glances. 

There  were  so  many  qualities  in  Kate  that  made 
her  attractive.  For  one  thing,  she  was  a  most 
reassuring  person,  and  was  in  turn  both  wise  and 
consoling  when  moments  of  depression  seized  him 
and  he  confided  in  her  his  fear  that  beef  and. 
Guinness'  stout  were  doomed  to  extinction.  She 
proved  conclusively  to  him  that  though  there  might 
be  a  diminution  in  quality  and  in  quantity,  they 
would  still  be  obtainable,  and  even  if,  through 
extraordinary  circumstances,  these  articles  of  food 
and  drink  vanished  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  mock 
beef  and  mock  Guinness'  stout  would  be  sure  to 
be  discovered  by  some  inventive  soul.  In  order 
to  allay  his  fears  she  went  so  far  as  to  write 
to  the  Editor  of  Erin's  Own  about  them,  and 
he  very  courteously  replied  in  the  Advice  to  Read- 
ers column  —  proving  beyond  a  doubt  by  fact  and 
argument  that  beef  would,  at  any  rate  for  a  long 
time  to  come,  compose  a  portion  of  the  diet  of  the 
D.M.P. 


208  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

When  the  figures  for  the  excess  profits  tax  were 
published  and  Tom  realised  the  colossal  fortunes 
some  people  were  making,  he  again  became  very 
low  in  himself.  Kate,  however,  revived  his 
drooping  spirits  with  some  philosophic  reflections 
on  the  matter  in  question,  explaining  that  these 
war  millionaires  were  to  be  pitied  rather  than 
envied. 

"  There's  one  comfort  about  them,"  she  would 
say;  "when  they've  cheated  the  poor  and  made 
all  their  pile  they'll  have  to  die  and  leave  it  behind 
them.  They  think  maybe  they  can  buy  a  passage 
over  with  it.  But  they  can  only  make  a  will; 
they  can't  take  a  penny  with  them.  And  you  may 
be  sure  the  millionaire,  whoever  he  be,  will  get 
no  thanks  for  it.  What  good  is  it  to  him  when 
the  people  that  are  to  get  his  money  are  looking 
down  his  neck  to  see  when  the  last  breath  would 
go  out  of  him?  " 

It  was  a  real  comfort  for  1316  to  realise  that 
there  would  be  no  flock  of  heirs  hanging  about  his 
bedside  anxiously  watching  out  for  the  death 
rattle.  It  was  not  worth  while  cheating  the  poor 
with  the  prospect  of  such  a  deathbed  and  such  an 
end  in  view.  And  his  confidence  in  Kate's  sound 
sense,  his  respect  and  admiration  for  her  general 
character  as  well  as  his  pleasure  in  her  society 
increased  mightily. 

Molly,  who  had  been  frightened  and  ill  at  ease 
when  he  had  paid  her  attentions,  felt  his  neglect 
bitterly.  Her  feelings  were  wounded,  and  in  her 
opinion  Kate  had  not  been  quite  fair  to  her.  Yet 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  209 

she  could  only  grumble  to  herself  in  secret;  she 
could  not  tax  Kate  openly  with  shabby  behaviour, 
for  1316  was,  in  a  sense,  the  latter's  property. 
Molly  had  been  merely  introduced  to  him  and  had 
not  brought  him  to  the  house.  She  could  not 
even  make  a  grievance  of  this  capture.  So  for 
some  days  her  spirits  were  very  drooping;  she  did 
her  work  listlessly  and  mournfully  informed  those 
about  her  that  she  could  not  support  the  stairs. 

One  evening,  however,  there  was  a  change  in 
her  demeanour;  even  Kate  noticed  it,  and  in  the 
week  that  followed  Molly  talked  no  more  of  her 
health  and  worked  with  a  will. 

She  had  a  very  precious  secret,  and  for  a  little 
while  kept  it  to  herself.  But  the  time  came  when 
it  was  necessary  to  share  it  with  her  companion, 
and  it  was  with  no  little  pride  she  at  length  made 
it  known.  She  told  Kate  that  she  had  been  spend- 
ing an  evening  in  the  house  of  an  old  employer 
and  had  met  there  a  young  man  called  Augustus 
Brookes,  who  was  a  valet  in  the  service  of  the 
Honourable  John  Mountstreet.  He  had  asked 
her  to  go  out  walking  with  him,  and  she  had  found 
him  very  genteel  and  most  attentive. 

"  He's  a  grand  little  fellow,"  said  Molly  finally, 
"  with  a  lovely  little  head.  Oh,  the  prettiest  little 
thing  you  ever  set  your  eyes  on,  with  a  nice  little 
split  in  his  hair.  He's  like  a  lily." 

"  Butlers  and  valets  are  dangerous,"  was  Kate's 
unenthusiastic  response;  "I  knew  them  in 
America.  Girls  like  them,  they've  so  much  talk. 
But  they're  either  too  hot  or  too  heavy  in  what 


210  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

they  say.  There's  too  much  of  the  woman  in 
them.  Indeed  they're  worse  than  women;  they 
make  more  mischief." 

"  You  don't  know  Mr.  Brookes,"  retorted 
Molly.  "  Oh,  there's  something  very  choice 
about  him.  Now  there's  nothing  choice  about 
1316.  He's  as  big  and  as  heavy  as  a  bull." 

Kate  did  not,  as  was  expected,  contradict  this 
aggressive  statement.  On  the  contrary,  she  ad- 
mitted there  was  a  slight  resemblance,  and  argued 
that  it  was  a  compliment  for  any  man  to  be  likened 
to  such  a  fine  gamey  animal.  However,  she  still 
clung  to  her  first  assertion  that  valets  were  danger- 
ous, though  she  graciously  agreed  to  meet  Augus- 
tus, be  friendly  and  suspend  judgment  until  such 
time  as  she  knew  him  thoroughly. 

The  first  meeting  took  place  in  the  kitchen  one 
Sunday  evening,  when  he  greeted  Molly  most 
affably  and  at  once  made  himself  at  home  by  the 
fire  as  if  he  was  an  old  acquaintance.  Kate  was 
certainly  not  prepossessed  by  his  appearance.  He 
was  such  a  little  man  and  had  such  a  distressingly 
weak  moustache  and  fair  hair,  much  oiled  and 
greased.  His  complexion  was  a  curious  saffron 
shade,  and  altogether  he  looked  got  up  and  arti- 
ficial, with  his  lavender-coloured  socks  and  tie,  his 
kid  gloves,  his  waisted  grey  topcoat  and  black 
velvet  collar,  and  his  rather  overwhelming  man- 
ners. 

When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  a  mixture  of  shrill 
cockney  and  flat  Dublin  sounds  that  seemed  to 
Molly  very  genteel.  He  was  not  at  a  loss  for 
conversation,  rarely  taking  any  notice  of  remarks 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  211 

made  to  him,  keeping  up  a  steady  recitative,  and 
sitting  there  like  a  little  king  upon  his  throne. 
It  was  not  long  before  he  began  to  discourse  the 
ladies  upon  his  wardrobe,  calling  attention  to  the 
perfect  harmony  of  his  socks  and  tie,  the  beautiful 
line  of  his  topcoat,  and  describing  almost  in  the 
same  breath  the  various  suits  and  the  quality  and 
texture  of  underwear  belonging  to  earls  and  rich 
commoners  he  had  valeted  or  with  whose  valets 
he  was  acquainted.  He  then  enumerated  again 
for  Molly's  particular  benefit  the  number  and  the 
price  of  his  suits,  socks,  ties  and  shirts,  saying 
finally: 

"  Oh,  a  fellow's  got  to  be  smart  when  he  moves 
in  high  life.  I've  got  to  look  after  my  appearance 
if  I  want  to  keep  in  the  swim.  And,  my  eye,  it 
takes  some  doing.  But  I  ask  any  salary  I  please, 
and  I  get  it.  Why,  I'd  half-a-dozen  aristocrats 
trying  to  hook  me  when  I  gave  notice  to  Lord 
Body.  That  was  my  last  place." 

"  Half-a-dozen!  "  exclaimed  Molly  admiringly. 

"  Yes,  half-a-dozen,  and  there  would  have  been 
more  if  they'd  heard  of  my  leaving.  I'm  looked 
on  as  a  bit  of  a  catch,  you  know.  Between  you 
and  me,  I  might  have  been  valet  to  his  Ex.,  but 
I've  a  modest  and  retiring  nature.  I  like  quiet. 
That  place  would  have  been  too  showy  by  a  long 
chalk." 

"  Ah,  sure,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  would  want 
a  bigger  man  than  you,"  said  Kate  a  little 
contemptuously. 

"  You  don't  know  him,"  returned  Augustus. 
"  His  Ex.  has  a  great  regard  for  me;  said  to  me 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

once  —  in  confidence  of  course  —  that  he  wished 
he  could  exchange  and  get  me  as  his  man.  But 
I  wasn't  having  any." 

"  I  don't  believe  you,"  was  Kate's  curt  response, 
and  she  promptly  turned  her  back  on  the  valet 
who  had  resisted  his  Ex.  and  busied  herself  with 
the  range. 

It  was  an  awkward  moment.  Molly,  though 
far  less  muscular  than  Kate  and  of  a  naturally 
timorous  nature,  became  possessed  of  a  painful 
desire  to  hit  her  or  to  do  her  some  bodily  hurt 
for  behaving  so  rudely  when  she  had  promised  to 
be  agreeable.  However,  Augustus  showed  great 
tact;  he  took  no  notice  of  the  aggressive  remark, 
and  proceeded  to  converse  in  low  tones  that  were 
quite  inaudible  to  any  one  a  few  yards  away  and 
necessitated  Molly's  sitting  right  beside  him  in 
order  that  she  might  hear  him.  He  told  her  of 
his  early  life  and  gave  her  an  account  of  his  race 
and  name.  His  father  was  a  Londoner  and  his 
mother  came  from  Dublin;  he  had  from  the  first 
been  valued  for  his  services;  he  had  frequently 
travelled  abroad,  always  moving  with  the  cream  of 
the  aristocracy.  It  was  like  a  fairy  tale,  with  all 
the  charm  of  a  possible  reality,  and  Molly  mar- 
velled at  his  condescension  in  noticing  her  humble 
self.  Finally  he  asked  her  to  sing,  but  when  he 
learnt  that  her  repertoire  consisted  of  Moore's 
melodies  and  traditional  airs,  he  pronounced  them 
old-fashioned  and  suggested  that  she  should  occa- 
sionally go  to  a  music-hall  and  pick  up  some 
of  the  up-to-date  songs  sung  there.  He  then 
informed  her  that  he  had  a  sweet  tenor  voice, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  213 

and  offered  to  illustrate  what  he  meant  by  up-to- 
date  songs  —  teach  her,  in  short,  what  real  melody 
was  like.  She  begged  him,  of  course,  to  do  so, 
and  the  greater  part  of  what  remained  of  the 
evening  was  passed  in  the  making  of  music,  his 
twangy  shred  of  a  voice  piping  with  nasal  shrill- 
ness through  the  kitchen.  Not  only  the  beauty 
and  value  of  new-fashioned  but  old-fashioned 
music-hall  ditties  were  made  plain  to  her  in  this 
manner,  and  Augustus  completed  his  programme 
by  singing  "  The  Only  Girl  "  as  he  gazed  ro- 
mantically at  his  hostess. 

She  again  became  conscious  of  that  queer  uneasy 
feeling  that  had  troubled  her  when  she  was  sitting 
on  the  bench  with  1316  in  Herbert  Park.  But 
it  did  not  stay  with  her  long  this  time,  for  she  was 
not  afraid,  as  was  nearly  always  the  case,  when  she 
was  with  the  large  policeman.  Augustus  was  so 
small  and  had  such  charming  manners  and  talked 
volubly  in  a  way  that  she  could  understand.  She 
felt  quite  at  ease  with  him.  A  few  minutes  before 
his  departure  he  tactfully  approached  Kate  again, 
asking  her  for  information  about  the  prices  of 
women's  clothes,  the  materials  used  and  so  forth, 
comparing  them  with  the  prices  current  for  suits, 
socks  and  shirts.  It  was  a  vast  and  interesting 
theme,  and  Kate  became  quite  talkative,  and  when 
he  rose  to  go  bade  him  a  pleasant  good-bye,  in- 
viting him  to  come  again. 

Molly  saw  Augustus  fairly  frequently  in  the 
days  that  followed,  and  his  companionship  became 
increasingly  delightful.  He  confided  in  her  that 
his  great  ambition  was  to  become  the  manager  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

a  big  hotel.  For  then  he  could  wear  evening 
clothes  and  boiled  shirts  even  in  day-time  and  boss 
hall  porters  six  foot  high  and  lift-boys  twice  his 
size.  So  kind  and  pleasant  was  he  she  recipro- 
cated his  confidences  by  telling  him  of  her  own 
ambitions.  She  longed  to  possess  a  little  house 
that  would  be  situated  in  some  genteel  suburb  like 
Rathmines,  and  would  not  be  far  from  a  tram  line. 
The  great  drawback  to  service  was  the  absence  of 
possession.  One  lived  in  the  house  of  a  stranger, 
one  ate  with  somebody  else's  knife  and  fork,  one 
slept  in  some  one  else's  bed,  drank  from  alien  cups, 
and  had  meals  at  other  people's  tables.  It  was 
an  ignominious  position  for  any  woman  not  to  own 
a  frying-pan  or  even  the  kettle  that  boiled  the 
water  for  her  tea;  they  were  as  necessary  to  her 
existence  as  a  razor,  a  pipe  and  a  capacity  for 
using  his  fists  were  to  a  man.  Without  them  she 
was  without  dignity  and  little  better  than  a  pauper 
or  a  rag-picker. 

Augustus  admitted  that  the  kettle  and  the  fry- 
ing-pan were  a  woman's  birthright  and  her  natural 
weapons  of  offence  and  defence  when  a  pugna- 
cious husband  required  taming.  He  pointed  out, 
however,  that  far  better  than  any  little  house  in 
Rathmines  would  be  the  position  of  manageress  of 
a  big  hotel.  There,  mistress  of  many  pots  and 
pans,  a  woman  would  hold  sway  over  hundreds  of 
lives,  and  her  dignity,  if  she  bowed  her  will  to  her 
husband  in  all  matters  that  were  seemly,  that  is  to 
say,  in  matters  not  pertaining  to  the  kitchen,  would 
be  thereby  much  exalted. 

"  I'd  like  well  to  be  manageress  of  a  big  hotel, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  215 

and  I  know  'tis  the  only  work  suited  to  me," 
remarked  Molly  with  a  sigh.  "  But  'twill  never 
be.  Indeed  'twould  be  like  dying  and  going  to 
Heaven  to  be  manageress  of  —  of,  say,  the  Shel- 
bourne  Hotel." 

"  Oh,  you  never  know  your  luck,"  Augustus  re- 
plied, and,  winking  knowingly,  went  on  —  "  wait 
and  see,  wait  and  see." 

For  a  few  minutes  Molly  gazed  at  the  little 
man  rapturously  —  almost  as  if  he  were  some 
deity,  or,  at  any  rate,  a  being  gifted  with  super- 
natural powers.  And  feeling  confident  that  some 
day  this  hotel  would  be  conjured  up  for  her  she 
went  on  to  tell  him,  as  she  would  have  told  any 
omnipotent  being  in  the  form  of  prayer,  the  wish 
of  her  heart,  a  wish  that  she  believed  could  not 
possibly  be  satisfied. 

From  her  earliest  years  she  had  longed  to 
possess  a  gold  watch.  She  had  never  been  able  to 
save  enough  money  to  buy  one;  she  believed  that 
she  would  go  to  her  grave  without  ever  having  had 
the  supreme  joy  of  possessing  such  a  treasure,  and 
the  thought  of  what  she  was  missing  made  her  at 
times  very  unhappy. 

Two  days  after  this  confidence  was  made  Augus- 
tus presented  her  with  a  jeweller's  box.  On  open- 
ing it  and  perceiving  its  contents  she  became 
overwhelmed  with  shyness,  and  emotion  com- 
pletely robbed  her  of  her  voice.  There  was  her 
dream  nestling  in  all  its  bright  perfection  in  downy 
cotton  wool;  there  was  the  treasure  that  she  be- 
lieved could  never  be  hers  in  this  life.  Gold 
watches  are  amazingly  various  in  shape  and  gen- 


216  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

eral  appearance  as  Molly  knew  to  her  cost,  having 
spent  many  vain  hours  gazing  at  jewellers'  shop 
windows,  but  this  was  exactly  the  one  she  would 
have  chosen;  it  fulfilled  all  her  requirements. 
Size  was  important,  and  it  was  as  large  as  a  five- 
shilling  piece  and  shone  like  a  mirror  in  the  sun. 
She  did  not  tell  Kate  about  it,  but  kept  it  packed 
away  in  cotton  wool  during  the  week,  secretly 
gazing  at  it  whenever  she  had  a  moment  of  leisure. 
It  was  only  wound  and  worn  on  Sundays,  and 
even  then  it  never  occurred  to  her  to  look  at  its 
face  for  the  time ;  she  looked  only  for  the  beautiful 
glitter  of  the  rim,  for  the  twisted  gold  of  the 
bracelet  against  the  background  of  white  wrist, 
and  what  she  saw  satisfied  all  her  longings. 

There  was  some  deep  meaning  in  this  gift; 
Molly  was  quite  aware  of  its  significance  and  felt 
that  the  time  had  come  for  discussion  and  inquiry. 
Believing  the  answer  would  be  a  favourable  one 
she  asked  Kate  point-blank  what  she  thought  of 
Augustus. 

"  The  first  time  I  saw  him  I  thought  he  looked 
as  if  he  was  just  weaned,"  was  the  severe  reply. 
"  Indeed,  I  didn't  think  him  a  man  at  all." 

"  He's  very  young-looking,"  admitted  Molly. 
"  But  isn't  he  like  a  lark  with  his  singing,  his  pretty 
voice  and  pretty  ways?  " 

"  He's  like  a  tormenting  monkey,"  retorted 
Kate;  "  he's  like  some  irritable  little  puppy  that'd 
be  hanging  on  to  your  tail.  He  never  leaves  you 
alone.  The  nights  he  comes  seem  to  me  the 
length  of  a  lifetime." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  217 

"  It's  all  because  of  his  size  you're  turning  him 
down." 

'  Well,  the  bigger  a  man  is  the  quieter  he  is. 
The  smaller  they  are  the  bigger  opinion  they  have 
of  themselves.  Take  an  advice  from  me,  Molly. 
Don't  be  encouraging  him." 

"And  why  wouldn't  I  encourage  him?" 

"  He'd  make  a  poor  kind  of  a  husband,"  Kate 
blurted  out,  and  then,  hesitating  a  moment,  went 
on,  "  Isn't  he  only  up  to  your  shoulder?  Sure 
it'd  be  the  dickens  to  be  looking  down  at  a  small 
man." 

"  I  like  smart  little  men.  You  can  keep  them 
in  their  place.  There's  nothing  frightening  about 
them.  They're  pleasant  and  easy-going." 

"  There's  your  mistake.  Big  men  are  quiet 
and  tender-hearted.  Little  men  have  twice  the 
temper  and  are  as  cross  as  two  sticks.  The 
smaller  they  are  the  more  talk  they  have." 

Molly  was  too  put  out  to  reply.  She  attached 
great  value  to  Kate's  opinion;  her  experience  was 
wide ;  she  knew  men's  ways  so  well  and  was  always 
very  successful  in  attracting  them  to  her.  Evi- 
dently she  did  not  approve  of  Augustus,  and  she 
appeared  not  to  wish  to  give  the  reason  for  her 
disapproval.  It  was  scarcely  fair  to  hide  it  up 
and  merely  to  hint  that  he  was  not  a  desirable 
person  and  should  not.be  encouraged.  Molly  was 
about  to  tax  her  with  this  mystery-making  when 
Madame  Cooney  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

Her  appearance  was  a  little  more  woebegone 
than  usual.  Her  wispy  grey  hair,  gathered  under 


218  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

a  shabby  black  bonnet,  left  the  forehead  very 
bare,  and  harshened  the  outline  of  her  bony  face, 
while  her  lips  seemed  more  sunken  and  querulous 
than  ever  and  her  chin  more  prominent.  She  sank 
heavily  into  a  chair  and  Molly  hastened  to  pour 
her  out  a  cup  of  tea.  If  she  were  not  presented 
with  one  at  once  it  would  be  a  cause  of  offence, 
and  she  would  rise  with  a  dolorous  whine  an- 
nouncing that  it  was  quite  plain  that  she  was  not 
wanted,  that  she  was  not  welcome  because  she  was 
poor. 

''  Wouldn't  you  take  a  cup  of  warm  tea  now, 
Mary  Anne?"  said  her  cousin,  handing  her  a 
large  well-filled  mug,  "  'twill  lift  you  up  from  the 
earth." 

"  Ay,  indeed,  I  want  some  lifting  up  from  the 
earth.  Times  are  very  bad.  The  Almighty 
seemly  has  forgotten  the  poor." 

"What's  happened  now?"  inquired  Kate 
brusquely. 

"  It's  my  teeth.  I  was  tormented  with  pains 
and  aches  in  every  one  of  them  for  two  weeks  and 
more.  And  last  Friday  I  went  to  the  hospital  and 
showed  them  to  the  young  man  there.  '  They're 
as  bad  as  bad  can  be,'  says  he.  '  I'll  have  to  pull 
every  one  of  the  twenty-two  out.'  ' 

"  You  wouldn't  let  him  do  that  on  you,  Mary 
Anne?  Sure  you'd  look  a  holy  show,"  remon- 
strated Molly. 

"  I  can  tell  you  I  had  a  lump  in  me  swally  when 
I  heard  him  say  it.  So  I  just  asked  him  to  saw  off 
all  the  tops  of  me  teeth  and  give  me  a  tidy  mouth. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  219 

But  not  a  bit  of  it.  He  wants  to  pull  every  one 
out." 

"  I'm  not  surprised,"  murmured  Kate  specula- 
tively.  "  I  don't  know  one  person  who  has  a  de- 
cent tooth  in  their  head  except  1316.  And,  mind 
you,  they're  all  his  own.  Other  people's  teeth 
is  rotten  —  even  Molly's  there.  Though  they're 
white  enough  she  breaks  them  on  her  food." 

"  I'll  have  to  get  in  a  new  set,"  wailed  Madame 
Cooney,  "  and  where's  the  money  to  come  from? 
'Twill  cost  a  fortune." 

"Is  it  teeth  that  are  not  your  own?"  cried 
Kate.  "  Oh,  indeed,  I'd  rather  have  no  teeth  than 
teeth  that  clank  together  and  jog  up  and  down." 

"  Then  what  will  I  do  for  ating?  " 

Molly,  realising  that  Mary  Anne  was  about  to 
break  out  into  lamentations  of  a  lengthy  and  pain- 
ful nature,  here  interrupted  her,  saying: 

".  You'll  get  in  a  fine  new  set  of  white  teeth  and 
'twill  make  a  beauty  of  you." 

"  Ah,  but  the  cost  of  it.  'Twill  mean  pounds 
and  pounds." 

'  You  can  sell  false  teeth  on  the  quays.  I've 
seen  the  advertisement  —  '  Old  gold,  silver  and 
false  teeth  bought.  Highest  cash  price  given.' 
So  'twon't  be  spending  money  but  keeping  it  to  get 
in  a  set.  Sure,  your  mouth'll  be  like  a  savings 
bank  and  safer  than  the  post  office,  what's  more. 
If  you  died  itself  your  children  would  come  in 
for  them." 

"  Ah,  don't  talk  to  me  of  dying.  I  feel  like  as 
if  I  was  on  the  edge  of  the  grave  this  minute." 


220  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  Indeed  you  may  count  yourself  very  well  off," 
retorted  Kate,  looking  severely  across  the  table  at 
Madame  Cooney.  "  There's  no  dentist  at  all 
down  in  our  parts  in  County  Cork.  But  a  man 
would  come  round  once  a  fortnight,  and  if  you 
wanted  teeth,  took  the  mould  of  your  mouth  and 
the  next  fortnight  brought  the  teeth  back.  There 
was  no  satisfaction  at  all  in  them  because  they 
never  fitted.  My  Aunt  Maggie  put  them  in  for 
show  on  a  Sunday,  but  she  never  ate  with  them. 
Oh,  indeed,  you're  well  off  up  here.  Them  young 
fellows  at  the  hospital  have  great  cleverality." 

"Well  off,  is  it?  I  was  never  worse  off. 
'Tisn't  my  teeth  alone  that  are  at  me.  That  young 
man,  the  new  lodger,  is  at  me  tooth  and  nails  as 
well." 

"That  young  man!"  interjected  Molly. 
"  Sure,  he  seemed  to  me  a  decent  poor  fellow  — 
very  quiet  in  himself." 

"  Oh,  quiet  enough.  It's  the  trickery  of  him, 
the  indecency  of  him  that  beats  me.  I  let  him 
the  room  you  were  in,  Kate.  And  look  now  at 
the  advertisement  he  put  in  the  Herald  a  week 
back."  Madame  Cooney  drew  a  dirty  newspaper 
from  under  her  cloak,  and  after  some  elegant 
sniffing  and  dexterous  manipulation  of  her  fore- 
finger along  her  nostrils  proceeded  to  read  in  firm 
but  tragic  tones:  "To  let  to  quiet  humble  man 
half  a  bed  at  one-and-six  per  week.  To  let  to 
quiet  humble  man  half  a  bed  at  one-and-six  per 
week."  *  The  repetition  of  the  sentence  seemed 

1  The     above     advertisement     actually    did     appear    in     this 
form  in  a  Dublin  newspaper. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  221 

to  relieve  her  feelings,  and  putting  down  the  news- 
paper she  continued,  "  There  were  three  answers; 
and  he's  just  after  taking  a  coal-heaver  into  the 
one  bed  with  him.  I  can't  turn  him  out;  I'd  lose 
the  rent.  Oh,  what  will  I  do  at  all  and  I  a  de- 
serted widow,  the  mother  of  four!  " 

"  My,  my,  that's  what  the  papers  call  profiteer- 
ing," remarked  Kate. 

"  But  he  hasn't  bet  me  out  yet,"  returned 
Madame  Cooney  defiantly.  "  I've  withdrawn  the 
bedclothes." 

Kate,  having  applauded  this  action,  proceeded 
to  soliloquise  upon  the  idiosyncrasies  of  men  in 
general,  suggesting  that  the  female  would  never 
have  ingenuity  enough  to  contrive  such  a  plan  for 
making  money,  and  that  a  young  man  of  such 
resource  was  bound  to  get  on  in  life  and  should 
not  be  ejected  from  his  room  but  encouraged,  for 
some  day  he  might  pay  court  to  one  of  the  Misses 
Cooney.  Madame  Cooney  tried  to  remonstrate, 
tried  to  impress  her  listeners  with  the  blue  blood 
of  the  Cooneys,  who  had  always  been  clerks  and 
typists  so  far  and  had  never  descended  to  service; 
but  it  was  in  vain.  Her  feeble  voice  was  drowned 
by  Kate's  stronger  instrument  as  she  discoursed 
upon  men  who  were  stout  and  little,  men  who 
were  long  and  lean,  men  who  in  length  outrivalled 
lamp-posts,  men  who  if  laid  on  their  fronts  from 
very  stoutness  were  as  tall  as  if  they  stood  up,  and 
the  temperaments  that  went  with  these  various 
figures,  the  characteristics  that  were  sure  to  go 
with  outline  and  presence,  and  this  led  her  on  to 
what  was  in  her  mind,  to  the  theme  of  Augustus, 


222  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Augustus  was  new  to  Madame  Cooney,  and  at 
length  her  querulous  whine  died  down  and  she 
consented  to  listen. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  little  Bantam  cock  —  the 
way  he'd  flaunt  his  feathers,  shake  his  tail  and  clap 
his  wings?"  inquired  Kate.  "That's  Augustus 
.  .  .  and  run  when  a  big  cock  comes  along." 

"  Ah,  don't  mind  her,"  put  in  Molly.  "  Oh, 
Mary  Anne,  if  you  seen  the  little  face  of  him 
and  the  little  feet  you'd  doate  on  him.  And  he's 
so  pleasant-spoken  — " 

"  Sure  he'd  want  six  men  to  keep  him  in  talk," 
interrupted  Kate.  "  He's  overflowing  with  talk 
about  his  tailor-made  coat,  his  coloured  socks,  his 
kid  gloves.  He  drew  back  his  shirt  to  show 
Molly  his  new  vests.  Did  you  ever  see  an  over- 
flowing bucket  of  water?  That's  what  his  talk  is 
like.  Oh,  Molly's  too  soft  with  the  men,  she's 
afraid  of  a  whole  man,  she  wouldn't  go  near  him, 
she  likes  them  womanish." 

A  gush  of  furious  tears  choked  the  latter's 
"  swally,"  so  that  she  could  not  articulate  a  reply. 
But  Madame  Cooney,  who  had  been  knotting  her 
bonnet  string  preparatory  to  departure,  wailed  a 
response  as  she  turned  towards  the  door: 

"  Molly's  too  soft,  and  you're  too  hard,  and 
both  of  ye  will  have  an  unhappy  end.  Of  that 
I'm  sure." 

A  disappointing  silence  followed  this  pronounce- 
ment, and  the  Mother  of  Four,  finding  she  could 
not  start  a  quarrel,  departed  grumbling  from  the 
kitchen. 

"  That  old  woman  would  plague  the  life  out  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  223 

you,"  muttered  Kate,  as  she  cleared  away  the  tea- 
things. 

There  was  no  reply  to  this  remark.  Molly  sat 
with  her  hands  clasped  under  her  apron  across  her 
stomach,  rocking  herself  to  and  fro.  The  attitude 
was  a  significant  one,  for  it  was  always  adopted 
when  the  patient  was  unwell  or  mentally  afflicted. 
Kate  moved  quickly  towards  the  scullery  with  the 
tray,  feeling  she  might  be  in  for  nerves  if  she 
stayed.  She  was,  however,  summoned  back  by  a 
voice  whose  irritable  tones  commanded  obedience. 

"  Kate,  I  want  to  speak  to  you." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  Why  are  you  so  down  on  poor  little  Augus- 
tus?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  like  small  men.  And 
I  could  blow  Augustus  off  my  hand." 

"  You've  something  against  him,"  Molly  broke 
out  wrathfully,  "  and  it's  not  fair  to  be  hiding 
it  up;  it's  not  fair  to  be  abusing  him,  and  never 
giving  out  the  reason  for  it." 

"  Well,  if  you  want  the  reason  it's  this,"  Kate 
replied  shortly.  "  I  don't  trust  him.  From  the 
day  I  laid  eyes  on  him  I  didn't  trust  him.  I  think 
there's  no  meanness  he  wouldn't  stoop  to. 
There's  my  opinion  of  him  now." 

"  You've  no  right  to  blackguard  him  like  that," 
cried  Molly.  "  He's  worth  twenty  Tom  Caseys. 
And  it's  the  way  you're  jealous.  That's  what  it  is. 
Now,  of  all  the  abominable,  horrid  men,  Tom  is 
the  worst.  If  you  came  into  the  room  he'd  shove 
away  from  you  like  a  bull  going  to  fight.  He's 
all  treachery  and  lies  and  deceit." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Molly  was  clearly  not  in  a  condition  to  be  laid 
upon  the  kitchen  table  and  tickled.  The  matter 
was  serious  when  the  quarrel  was  about  a  man. 
Kate  promptly  retreated  into  the  scullery,  and 
closed  the  door  behind  her. 

Further  abuse  followed,  and  broken  fragments 
of  sentences  now  and  then  reached  the  latter's  ears 
as  she  washed  up  the  tea-things.  In  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  time  the  upbraiding  ceased 
and  quiet  prevailed. 

Later  in  the  evening,  when  Kate  hoped  the 
storm  was  overpast,  and  ventured  to  emerge  from 
the  scullery,  she  discovered  Molly  still  seated  in 
the  same  attitude,  her  two  hands  clasped  beneath 
her  apron  across  her  stomach,  sadly  rocking  her- 
self to  and  fro. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


MOLLY  had  not  spoken  to  Kate  for  two  days  — 
a  calamitous  fact  without  parallel  in  the  history 
of  their  friendship.  This  was  the  sequel  to  her 
decision  to  pursue  the  acquaintance  of  Augustus 
with  all  the  energy  of  which  she  was  capable.  He 
certainly  seemed  eager  for  her  companionship,  and 
suggested  that  they  should  spend  an  evening  at  the 
cinema.  "  Gossamer  Wings  "  was  running  at  the 
Carleton,  and  it  would  suit  them  admirably. 

Molly  accepted  the  invitation,  and  they  were 
sitting  before  the  fire  chatting,  as  they  had  half  an 
hour  to  spare  before  they  need  start,  when  who 
should  walk  into  the  kitchen  but  1318.  There 
was  an  awkward  moment  of  silence;  then  Molly 
introduced  the  two  men  and  summoned  Kate  from 
the  pantry. 

The  opportunity  for  speech  was  too  good  a  one 
to  be  lost.  1316  was  in  one  of  his  silent  melan- 
choly humours,  and  Augustus  proceeded  therefore 
to  harangue  the  company.  He  talked  of  the  cut 
of  a  man's  trousers,  and  having  rather  pointedly 
eyed  the  ill-cut  pair  upon  1316,  and  asked  him 
if  they  had  been  made  in  the  last  century,  they 
were  so  shapeless,  he  enunciated  the  dictum  that 
a  coat  with  a  waist,  a  fancy  waistcoat,  well-cut 
trousers,  patent  leather  boots,  coloured  socks  and 
kid  gloves  always  stamped  a  gentleman.  The 

225 


226  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

man  who  did  not  possess  such  articles  of  clothing 
was  a  boor  —  a  clod  belonging  to  the  scum  of 
the  city,  and  no  better  than  any  dirty  corner  boy, 
with  whom  alone  he  should  associate.  Again 
Augustus  gazed  hard  at  i3iB's  trousers,  his  sober 
grey  socks,  his  heavy  iron-shod  boots,  until  at 
length  the  latter  began  to  scowl  and  moved  his 
enormous  feet  uneasily.  This  seemed  to  give  sat- 
isfaction to  the  discursive  little  man,  who  went 
on  to  say  that  scent  and  hair-wash  were  very 
necessary  in  the  composition  and  make-up  of  a 
gentleman.  Face-creams  were  also  useful  on  oc- 
casions, especially  to  those  of  bright  and  lobster- 
coloured  countenances.  Whereupon  the  speaker 
stared  at  i3iB's  ruddy  face,  and  suggested  to 
him  politely  that  Woolworth's  face-cream  and 
hair-oil  —  creams  sixpence  a  jar,  hair-oil  also  six- 
pence —  should  play  an  essential  part  in  his  toilet, 
announcing  in  the  same  breath  that  a  man  who  did 
not  use  the  properties  of  the  toilette  he  had  already 
mentioned  was  without  cleanly  habits,  a  bounder, 
a  cad  and  no  gentleman. 

1316  reared  his  head  in  majestic  fashion, 
snorted  and  sniffed  the  air. 

"I  have  no  opinion  of  a  fellow  who  has  the 
filthy  smell  of  scent  on  him,"  he  growled,  u  and 
uses  mucky  face-creams.  Why,  he's  no  better 
than  a  womanish  girl  with  long  hair." 

"  Much  worse,"  interpolated  Kate. 

u  Ay,  indeed,  much  worse." 

"  Oh,  I  admit  a  great  fat  lubber  like  you  is 
much  too  beastly  to  use  them,"  exclaimed  Augus- 
tus. "  What  decency  could  any  one  expect  from 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  227 

a  chap  with  a  face  on  him  like  a  boiled  cabbage, 
and  clothes  that  might  have  come  out  of  a  corpora- 
tion bucket,  they're  so  greasy." 

1316  rose  silently  and  crossed  the  kitchen, 
pausing  in  front  of  Augustus  and  rubbing  his  hands 
together  in  an  unpleasantly  significant  manner. 
Then,  moistening  his  lips  with  his  tongue,  he 
began :"  Look  here,  young  man,  I  could  settle 
your  hash  for  you  in  a  minute.  I  could  break 
you  across  my  knee  with  the  turn  of  a  hand;  I 
could  squeeze  the  life  out  of  you  between  a  finger 
and  thumb." 

'  You  wouldn't  dare,"  blurted  out  Augustus, 
paling  beneath  his  saffron  complexion. 

"  Oh,  wouldn't  I!  Anyway  I  could  make  you 
feel  me.  I  could  sit  on  you  for  a  minute  or  two 
and  what  would  be  left,  I  wonder?  A  fine 
squashy  mash,  ha?  Oh,  I  could  crush  you  and 
squeeze  you,  you  little  hopping  flea  of  a  man.  .  .  . 
Here,  look  sharp  and  be  off  out  of  this  before  I 
murder  you." 

Augustus  blinked  in  a  half-dazed  manner  for 
one  moment,  measuring  the  huge  girth  and  dimen- 
sions of  the  policeman  and  his  own  puny  propor- 
tions; then,  with  a  desperate  clutch  at  his  top- 
coat, stick  and  hat  he  hurriedly  slunk  from  the 
kitchen. 

Molly,  who  followed  him,  was  furious  at  the 
cruel  treatment  of  her  little  pet  and  apostrophised 
1316  as  a  bully  and  a  brute  all  the  way  down 
town.  Her  companion,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
merely  inclined  to  be  tearful  and  peevish,  all  the 
boastfulness  gone  from  him,  but  once  the  lights  of 


228  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

O'Connell's  Bridge  were  in  view  his  spirits  rose 
again. 

They  decided  to  take  a  turn  before  going  into 
the  cinema,  and  so  they  joined  the  crowds  in 
O'Connell  Street,  strolling  up  and  down,  now  and 
then  pausing  to  gaze  at  the  brightly  lit  windows 
of  tobacconists'  and  newspaper  vendors'  booths 
that  had  been  run  up  in  the  place  of  shops  after 
the  rebellion.  Having  discussed  the  contents  of 
the  windows  and  the  manner  in  which  girls 
should  do  their  hair,  a  theme  upon  which  Augustus 
was  both  suggestive  and  interesting,  they  directed 
their  steps  towards  the  cinema,  and  then  it  was 
that  Molly's  companion  began  to  confide  in  her 
about  himself.  A  mottled  skin  was  a  great  draw- 
back to  a  valet.  He  had  had  great  trouble  with 
his  complexion.  But  the  problem  had  at  last  been 
successfully  solved,  and  he  showed  her  an  adver- 
tisement which  read  as  follows :  "  A  slightly  sun- 
burnt complexion  greatly  enhances  a  young  man's 
beauty.  Try  sun  bronze."  Augustus  had  tried 
sun  bronze,  and  he  flattered  himself  that  a  very 
manly  shade  of  colouring  had  been  produced.  In 
fact  "  sun  bronze  "  had  put  an  end  to  his  troubles. 

Molly  was  much  touched  by  this  confidence,  by 
the  frank  way  in  which  it  was  made.  Few  men 
would  have  had  enough  courage  to  share  with 
another,  more  particularly  a  woman,  such  intimate 
secrets  of  the  toilette.  She  sympathised  deeply; 
she  herself  had  been  troubled  once  by  pimples,  and 
the  anxiety  she  had  suffered  at  that  period  of  her 
life  was  extreme. 

A   cinema   has   many   advantages   over    other 


£29 

places  of  entertainment.  Not  alone  is  it  a  pleas- 
ant spot  for  an  afternoon  nap  when  the  streets 
are  thick  with  mud  and  the  rain  falls  with  heavy 
persistency,  but  it  is  also  a  happy  harbour  for 
those  couples  who,  tired  of  aimless  strolling,  de- 
sire some  dusky  place  of  rest  where  the  dimness 
gives  an  opportunity  for  greater  intimacy.  Au- 
gustus knew  of  its  large  possibilities  in  this  respect, 
and  Molly  became  aware  of  them  before  the  even- 
ing was  past.  There  comes  a  voiceless  period  in 
friendship  when  swift  furtive  action  is  desirable; 
where  can  it  better  be  taken  than  in  the  cinema 
where  silence  reigns  and  the  lights  are  low? 

The  pictures  flitted  by  in  quick,  endless  proces- 
sion, but  their  story  was  only  a  background  for 
the  real  one.  Molly  sat  up  very  stiffly.  She  did 
not  dare  to  lean  back,  for  it  would  admit  recog- 
nition of  the  fact  that  his  arm  was  behind  her. 
Of  course  it  was  very  wrong  to  permit  an  arm  to 
lie  in  that  particular  position.  Her  mother  had 
often  told  her  that  a  girl  should  only  allow  her 
husband  to  utilise  his  arm  in  that  particular 
fashion.  But  it  would  be  so  cruel  to  tell  Augustus 
to  remove  it.  In  fact,  it  was  an  impossibility  when, 
in  his  lordly  generosity,  he  had  presented  her  with 
a  gold  watch.  No  measurable  return  could  ever 
be  made  for  such  a  princely  gift.  So  her  best  plan 
was  to  take  no  notice  of  his  present  action. 

Curiously  enough  the  theme  of  "  Gossamer 
Wings "  dealt  principally  with  couples  sitting 
under  hedges  or  in  conservatories  and  boudoirs, 
the  young  men's  right  arms  in  the  same  awkward 
position  while  slow  music  was  played.  They 


230  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

made  the  attitude  of  Augustus  seem  quite  natural 
and  appropriate.  Gradually  Molly  became 
dreamy  and  abstracted,  and  wondered  vaguely  if 
the  real  world  outside  the  kitchen,  with  its  dull 
dry  work,  was  made  up  of  couples  resting  in  the 
dusk,  encircling  arms  and  tender  melody.  If  so 
it  was  a  delicious  world,  the  only  possible  world 
in  which  to  live.  She  wanted  very  badly  to  let 
herself  go,  to  lean  back,  to  come  into  contact  with 
that  comforting  arm,  to  surrender  herself  com- 
pletely and  enter  into  the  paradise  that  was  pass- 
ing swiftly  before  her  eyes.  Her  pleasure 
became  intense  at  the  thought  that  one  little  move- 
ment of  hers  would  enable  her  to  pass  into  such 
bliss. 

The  heroine  in  "  Gossamer  Wings  "  had  been 
captured  for  the  third  time  by  brigands.  Her 
lover  had  found  her  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains; 
and  though  in  the  midst  of  deadly  perils  they  had 
halted  in  a  rocky  gorge  merely  in  order  that  they 
might  sit  side  by  side,  just  above  a  precipice  over 
which  any  brigand  could  topple  them.  The 
orchestra  wailed  out  the  tender  cry  of  their  love, 
and  the  arm  of  the  hero  slid  round  the  small  waist 
as  he  gazed  at  his  lady  adoringly.  Then  there 
came  a  burst  of  passionate  melody,  violin  sobbing, 
'cello  booming,  and  Molly  let  herself  slip  back 
with  a  happy  sigh,  closing  her  eyes. 

She  felt  a  grip  about  her  waist  and  greasy  hair 
brushing  her  cheek.  It  made  her  start  to  her  feet 
gasping  as  if  she  had  suddenly  plunged  into  ice- 
cold  water.  He  was  whispering  something;  an 
angry  woman,  sitting  in  the  row  behind,  began  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  231 

grumble ;  he  pulled  peremptorily  at  her  dress,  but 
she  took  no  notice  and  struggled  out  of  the  row. 

It  was  drizzling  outside;  the  streets  were 
sloppy,  the  lights  hazy  and  the  pavements  empty. 
They  walked  back  in  silence  to  Hatch  Street, 
Molly  confused  and  rather  miserable,  acutely 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  her  best  hat  was  being 
spoiled  by  the  wet,  and  that  her  hair  had  gone  out 
of  curl.  At  the  area  gate  he  broke  the  terrible 
silence,  and  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  her  brain 
cleared;  she  was  able  to  think  connectedly  again. 

"  Will  you  forgive  me,  Miss  Mulquiney?  "  he 
began;  "  I  meant  to  take  no  liberty  —  only  I  lost 
my  head.  But  you'd  make  any  chap  lose  his 
head." 

Molly's  eyelids  drooped  before  his  gaze.  He 
was  in  a  dignified  position;  she  was  two  steps 
down  from  the  gate,  so  his  eyes  were  on  a  level 
with  hers.  Their  soulful  expression,  and  the  fact 
that  he  had  lost  his  head,  were  enough  to  move 
the  stoniest  heart.  Relentless  anger  was  impos- 
sible in  such  a  case. 

"  Of  course,  you'd  no  right  to  do  it,"  she  re- 
plied in  a  soft  quaver;  "  but  I  —  I'll  forgive  you 
if  you'll  have  conduct  and  not  be  doing  it  again." 

"  Not  without  your  leave,"  he  returned  signifi- 
cantly. "  Good-bye,  Miss  Mulquiney.  I'll  call 
in  on  Wednesday  night.  I'll  have  a  question  to 
ask  you  and  perhaps  another  present.  So  keep 
the  coast  clear." 

His  condescension  was  beautiful.  Molly  was 
overwhelmed  by  it,  and  by  the  prospect  of  that 
mysterious  question.  Her  heart  gave  a  mad 


232  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

thump,  and  careless  of  the  rain  and  wind, 
careless  of  her  best  Sunday  hat  and  the  ruined 
glories  of  her  ostrich  feather,  she  stood  by  the 
area  gate  ecstatically  gazing  down  the  street  at 
the  little  figure  picking  its  way  with  dainty  steps 
among  the  pools,  growing  smaller  and  smaller 
until  at  length  it  disappeared  round  the  corner 
into  the  square. 

II 

The  following  afternoon  Kate  was  ironing  in 
the  kitchen,  and  as  she  ironed  her  mind  was  busy 
seeking  for  some  means  whereby  she  could  bring 
Molly  into  a  state  of  grace.  There  was  one 
insuperable  difficulty.  She  was  determined  to 
have  no  traffic  with  Augustus,  and  she  feared  that 
he  was  paying  Molly  far  more  attention  than  was 
desirable.  Her  head  was  being  turned;  she  would 
not  listen  to  reason;  she  refused  to  answer  when 
spoken  to;  there  could  be  no  peace  in  the  kitchen 
as  long  as  this  little  hopping  flea  of  a  man  was 
around.  He  was  a  bad,  unwholesome  influence. 
If  necessary,  the  place  must  be  made  too  hot  to 
hold  him.  Just  as  Kate  arrived  at  this  conclusion 
there  was  a  knock  at  the  area  door,  and  in  walked 
Augustus. 

"Where's  Molly?"  he  inquired. 

"  She's  busy  upstairs  and  won't  be  down  for 
hours  and  hours,"  was  the  chill  reply. 

"  Oh,  I  can  wait  for  her,"  he  said,  and  quite 
unabashed  by  Kate's  frigid  stare,  put  down  his 
coat  and  hat  and  settled  himself  into  a  chair  by 
the  fire.  Hating  to  be  in  the  company  of  any 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  233 

individual  who  did  not  admire  him,   or  was   in 
any  way  hostile  or  contemptuous  of  him,  he  at  once 
proceeded    to    pay    compliments    and    to    make 
pleasant  conversation  about  the  War,  the  weather, 
the  shops,   and  his  sensations  on  a  sea  journey. 
For  some  little  while  his  tongue  ran  on,  but  the 
cool   disdain   of   Kate's   manner,   her   refusal   to 
recognise  his  presence  in  the  kitchen,   either  by 
word  or  sign,  at  length  stung  even  his  self-com- 
placency.    He  began  to  make  remarks  about  the 
D.M.P.  of  an  unflattering  nature.     "  By  Jove,  I 
could  take  the  shine  out  of  those  chaps!  "  he  ex- 
claimed, "  great,  big,  common  fellows.     There's 
that  great  mug  of  a  policeman  who  was  here  the 
other  evening.     What  good  is  he?     He's  no  use 
to  any  one  —  all  beef  and  no  brain.     He  couldn't 
run  away  even.     He's  only  stuck  up  in  the  street 
to  be  potted  at  by  Sinn  Feiners  and  the  soldiers." 
Kate   slapped   down   her   iron   and   addressed 
Augustus  in  quick,  peremptory  tones:  "  Here,  you 
walk  out  of  my  kitchen,  d'ye  hear?  " 
"Walk  out  of  the  kitchen!" 
"  Yes,  walk  out  of  my  kitchen." 
"  But  I  want  to  see  Molly." 
"  Here,  cut  your  sticks  out  of  this.     I  won't 
have  my  friends  talked  of  in  that  way  and  by  a 
rascal  that  looks  no  better  than  a  ha'pworth  of 
soap  after  a  week's  washing  —  by  a  creature  over- 
flowing with  low  villainy.     Oh,  if  there  was  any 
law  in  the  land  you'd  have  been  clapped  into  jail 
long  ago.     That's  what  1316  says.     Now,  I've 
given  you  your  marching  orders.     Let  you  get  out 
of  this  at  once  or  I'll  make  you  sorry  you  ever 


234 

were  born."  Kate  brandished  the  iron  menac- 
ingly. 

For  the  second  time  that  week  Augustus  beat  a 
hasty  retreat  to  the  area  door.  Just  as  he  reached 
it  his  name  was  called  in  anxious  tones,  and  Molly 
who,  unperceived  by  Kate,  had  been  standing  in 
the  other  doorway,  precipitated  herself  across  the 
kitchen.  Augustus,  however,  was  in  far  too  great 
a  hurry  to  pause  or  to  answer  this  summons,  and 
he  disappeared  up  the  area  steps,  Molly  closely 
following  him. 

A  few  minutes  later  she  returned  without  him 
and  sank  into  a  chair  in  a  state  bordering  on 
hysteria.  Between  sobs  and  cries  of  rage  she 
apostrophised  Kate  in  broken  meaningless  sen- 
tences, from  which  the  latter  gleaned  the  fact, 
after  much  patient  listening,  that  Augustus  had 
vowed  he  would  never  return,  never  honour  the 
kitchen  with  another  visit,  never  see  Molly  again. 
He  had  been  too  grossly  insulted. 

This  threat,  as  the  days  passed,  proved  not  to 
be  the  utterance  of  mere  hasty  anger,  but  to  be 
rooted  in  deep  resolve.  Molly  passed  a  portion 
of  each  evening  on  the  area  steps  watching  anx- 
iously for  the  reappearance  of  the  little  figure,  and 
every  morning  she  rushed  to  answer  the  postman's 
knock.  Her  vigilance  was  all  in  vain;  no  word 
or  sign  came,  and  soon  she  realised  she  must  give 
up  the  fair  hope  that  had  almost  seemed  to  her 
a  concrete  fact,  that  some  day  she  would  be  the 
wife  of  the  manager  of  the  Shelbourne  Hotel. 
The  disappointment  that  followed  the  loss  of  this 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  235 

prospective  kingdom  was  of  a  very  bitter  kind,  and 
the  breach  between  her  and  Kate  became  wide 
indeed.  They  only  spoke  when  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  give  each  other  directions  about  work, 
and  silence  was  the  rule  in  the  kitchen.  Yet 
Molly  was  possessed  of  a  painful  craving  for  con- 
versation; she  had  never  wanted  to  talk  so  much 
before;  she  felt  she  could  keep  up  a  continuous 
flow  of  speech  the  whole  day  through,  and  even 
then  not  be  satisfied.  So,  whenever  possible,  she 
sought  the  company  of  Madame  Cooney,  whose 
taciturn  gloom,  whose  continual  assurance  to 
Molly  that  she  should  have  died  young,  died  be- 
fore wicked  scheming  had  blighted  her  life,  was 
both  consoling  and  comforting. 

"  Sure,  I've  no  chance  with  Kate,"  complained 
the  victim  for  the  hundredth  time  one  night. 
"  There's  a  boy  by  the  name  of  Casey  out  of 
the  D.M.P.,  who  came  to  the  kitchen  one  night 
—  a  fine,  tall,  handsome  fellow.  He  liked  me 
very  well,  I  know,  but  when  Kate  saw  the  way 
the  wind  blew  she  sent  me  to  wash  up  the  tea- 
things,  and  from  that  time  on  I  didn't  get  in  a 
word  with  him.  Oh,  Kate  gets  inside  of  a  fellow, 
and  doesn't  give  me  a  chance.  She  takes  every- 
one's share,  and  if  she  can't  take  it  she'll  drive  it 
away.  I  never  knew  such  a  girl  for  grabbing. 
Long  ago  I'd  been  married,  and  well  married, 
but  for  her." 

Here  Molly  had  to  pause  in  order  to  wrestle 
with  a  choke  in  her  throat,  and  Madame  Cooney 
seized  the  opportunity,  this  sudden  cessation  of 


236  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

speech  presented,  by  solemnly  spreading  out  a 
newspaper  on  the  table  and  making  the  following 
mysterious  pronouncement : 

"  You've  a  right  to  be  thankful  to  God  you're 
not  lying  in  jail  this  very  minute.  Indeed,  it's  a 
miracle  you  escaped  it." 

"Escaped  jail!  What  do  you  mean?"  cried 
Molly,  staring  at  her  cousin  with  bright,  startled 
eyes. 

"  Your  friend  Augustus  was  arrested  to-day 
for  making  off  with  one  hundred  pounds  that  he 
stole  from  his  master.  It's  here  on  the  paper. 
If  they'd  cot  the  two  of  ye  together  they'd  have 
clapped  ye  both  into  jail,  and  the  Cooneys  would 
have  been  branded  by  the  crime  of  the  Mulquineys 
and  been  disgraced  for  ever." 

"  But  I  didn't  know  anything  about  it,"  gasped 
Molly. 

"  Ah,  that  wouldn't  matter.  They'd  have 
clapped  you  into  prison  for  being  friendly  with  a 
common  thief.  That's  the  law." 

Molly  was  too  dumbfounded  to  question  this 
statement,  or  even  to  articulate  any  coherent 
sound.  She  clasped  her  hands  across  the  seat  of 
her  affections  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro,  while 
Madame  Cooney  spent  a  happy  hour  complaining 
and  grieving  over  the  low  company  her  cousin  kept, 
and  hinting  darkly  that  it  was  possible  she  might 
yet  be  picking  oakum  and  doing  six  months'  hard. 

When  at  length  the  latter  had  recovered  her 
wits  and  the  use  of  her  legs  she  rose,  and  bidding 
Madame  Cooney  a  hasty  good-bye,  fled  from  the 
musty  parlour  and  hurried  through  the  streets 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  237 

with  a  frightened,  beating  heart,  expecting  plain- 
clothes  detectives  to  leap  out  at  her  from  every 
dark  corner.  Open  spaces  had  even  more  terrors 
for  her.  There,  in  College  Green,  stood  Joe 
Spillane  directing  the  traffic,  looking  even  more 
gigantic  than  usual  in  the  gathering  dusk.  She 
feared  she  might  catch  his  eye,  and  that,  connecting 
her  at  once  with  Augustus,  he  would  cross  the 
road  and  lay  a  heavy  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 
There  could  be  no  escape  from  that  huge  hand 
once  it  settled  into  that  particularly  awkward  posi- 
tion, and  not  daring  to  look  again  at  the  large 
figure  she  began  running  in  the  direction  of  Graf- 
ton  Street,  expecting  every  moment  to  hear  heavy 
footfalls  behind  her. 

In  her  hurried  flight  she  was  nearly  knocked 
down  several  times  through  violent  collisions  with 
individuals  of  solid  and  portly  girth;  twice  she 
barely  escaped  being  run  over  by  a  passing  tram, 
while  a  barking  dog  ran  beside  her  trying  to  bite 
her  legs.  When  she  arrived  at  Hatch  Street  so 
prostrate  was  her  condition  it  was  a  full  hour  and 
more  before  Kate  learnt  the  reason  for  her  dis- 
tress, learnt  of  the  infamy  of  Augustus,  learnt  that 
policemen  were  on  her  track.  It  was  a  situation 
fraught  with  extreme  peril,  and  Molly  decided  to 
spend  the  night  in  the  coal-hole  or  under  her  bed. 
She  did  not  look  further  than  the  night  —  dared 
not  let  her  thoughts  dwell  on  the  dangerous  days 
that  must  follow.  Kate  burst  into  a  fit  of  un- 
feeling laughter  when  the  project  of  the  coal-hole 
was  unfolded,  then,  having  assured  Molly  there 
was  no  danger,  promised  to  speak  to  1316  and 


238  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

obtain  his  protection  for  her,  and,  if  necessary, 
get  him  to  use  his  influence  with  the  police  in- 
spector to  prevent  her  arrest. 

Molly,  in  return,  vowed  she  would  black  Kate's 
boots  until  she  died,  put  her  into  her  grave- 
clothes  when  that  time  came,  during  her  life-time, 
if  occasion  required,  walk  on  her  knees  for  her 
from  Hatch  Street  to  Stephen's  Green,  and  per- 
form various  other  useful  acts  of  service  to  prove 
her  devotion.  Thus,  a  pleasant  feeling  of  self- 
sacrifice  filled  their  hearts,  making  each  of  them 
feel  their  own  unselfishness  acutely.  This  feeling 
is  of  an  eminently  satisfactory  nature,  inasmuch 
as  it  gives  birth  to  a  very  real  tenderness  for  the 
author  of  these  pleasurable  sensations,  for  the 
individual  for  whom  sacrifice  is  to  be  made.  Con- 
sequently, a  complete  reconciliation  followed;  and 
as  a  proof  of  their  warm  regard  for  each  other 
Molly  and  Kate  spent  a  disturbed  and  uncom- 
fortable night,  sleeping  together  in  the  one  bed. 

Life  became  very  pleasant  again.  Molly  was 
only  too  thankful  to  be  safe  from  the  clutches  of 
the  law,  and  as  long  as  Kate  had  influence  with  its 
officials  she  felt  quite  secure  —  felt  that  there  was 
not  even  danger  of  her  being  brought  to  the  courts 
as  a  witness,  in  which  case  that  awful  episode  in 
the  cinema  would  assuredly  have  been  brought 
to  light,  perhaps  even  published  in  the  newspaper, 
and  placed  side  by  side  with  the  War  news,  and 
would,  in  her  opinion,  have  even  eclipsed  it  in 
sensational  horror. 

The  day  the  trial  was  over  and  Augustus  con- 
victed of  more  than  one  larceny  Molly  felt  safe 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  239 

at  last,  and  was  so  happy  and  relieved  it  seemed 
to  her  she  could  never  again  be  miserable.  She 
was  therefore  vastly  surprised  when  she  found 
Kate  sitting  in  an  attitude  of  despair  in  the  kitchen, 
her  eyes  quite  red  and  her  hair  in  disorder,  as 
if  she  had  been  clutching  at  it  violently. 

"  Oh,  Kate,  what's  the  matter?  "  she  cried  out, 
and  struck  by  the  look  of  desolation  on  her  friend's 
face,  continued  anxiously,  "  has  any  one  died  on 
you?" 

"  Not  a  one.  But  the  news  is  bad  enough," 
was  the  mournful  response.  "  I'm  off  to  the 
States  as  soon  as  I  can  clear  out  of  this." 

"  Off  to  the  States?  And  why  would  you  do 
that?" 

"  I  can  get  no  sweetening  for  my  tea.  There's 
not  a  grain  of  sugar  in  the  city  of  Dublin.  I'm 
after  trying  six  shops.  They  say  there'll  be  no 
more  till  the  War  is  over.  Isn't  that  enough  to 
drive  any  one  across  the  sea?  " 

The  news  shocked  Molly  terribly;  she  did  not 
care  particularly  for  sugar,  but  its  withdrawal 
from  the  market  as  an  article  of  diet  was  a  menace. 
Curling-pins  might  go  next.  In  a  year's  time 
paper  clothes  might  be  the  rule,  and  garments 
made  of  old  newspapers  were  not  a  pleasant 
prospect.  For  the  moment  Molly  realised  that 
tea  without  sweetening  was,  in  Kate's  case,  a 
calamity,  and  she  endeavoured  to  console  her, 
telling  her  at  the  same  time  that  women  were  not 
permitted  to  travel  to  the  States  now. 

There  was  no  escape,  no  freedom  of  choice. 
The  blow  was  a  staggering  one  and  Kate  cried 


240  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

out  feverishly,  "  I'll  give  up;  I'll  die.  It's  the 
only  thing  to  do." 

Molly  had  often  announced  she  would  give  up, 
had  often  threatened  instant  dissolution.  This 
was  the  first  time  Kate  had  lost  courage.  Matters 
were  serious  indeed  when  she  despaired.  Conso- 
lation must  be  administered  at  once. 

"  Ah,  sure,  we'll  get  used  to  going  without 
sugar  like  everything  else,"  she  remarked  consol- 
ingly. "  Oh,  you'd  get  used  to  anything.  Sure, 
the  bread  is  made  of  all  sorts  of  combustibles. 
And  we  eat  them  and  don't  mind  one  bit." 

"That's  true,"  Kate  returned;  "a  year  back 
the  bread  was  as  white  as  a  hound's  tooth;  but 
now  'tis  no  better  than  the  sweepings  of  the  road. 
Sugar  is  a  different  thing  howsomever.  I  always 
loved  the  teapot,  and  the  times  I  was  down  I 
found  'twas  a  cup  of  hot,  sweet  tea  that  cured  me. 
Now  that's  gone.  They're  taking  every  bit  from 
us.  ...  Oh,  where  will  it  end,  Molly?  Where 
will  it  end  ?  " 

The  two  women  drew  close  together  by  the  fire 
shivering,  and  asking  each  other  that  question  as 
many  hundreds  of  others  asked  it  in  those  dark 
days  when  the  shadow  of  famine  had  fallen  over 
the  land.  But  they  did  not  dare  to  seek  an 
answer,  did  not  dare  to  look  forward,  and  so  they 
huddled  together,  whispering  to  each  other  of  the 
good  days  that  lay  behind  them  until  the  glowing 
coal  in  the  range  was  grey  ash,  and  Molly  had 
fallen  asleep  with  her  head  resting  on  Kate's 
shoulder. 

For  a  while  the  latter  let  her  sleep  on;  sleep 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  241 

was  a  refuge;  sleep  was  almost  as  peaceful  as 
death.  Besides,  it  was  possible  to  think  undis- 
turbed. And  Kate  let  her  mind  wander  back  to 
the  afternoon  when  she  had  gone  out  shopping. 
It  was  hot  and  sultry  July  weather.  The  streets 
were  cruel  in  their  dustiness  and  in  their  close  at- 
mosphere. The  country  would  be  fresh  and 
sweet  with  the  scent  of  hayfields  in  the  air  she 
had  thought  as  she  walked  along  Merrion  Row, 
and  then  the  old  hunger  for  the  land  swept  over 
her  —  a  hunger  for  the  fields,  for  harvest-times, 
for  the  west  wind  blowing,  for  the  sun  and  rain 
playing  in  turn  upon  her  face,  for  the  clean  happy 
exultation  of  it  all.  She  had  had  to  stop  in  her 
walk  and  look  into  a  shop  window  to  hide  the 
tears  in  her  eyes.  Then,  having  recovered  herself 
and  begun  her  shopping,  she  had  been  told  at  the 
grocer's  that  a  shipload  of  sugar  had  been  sunk  off 
the  southern  coast,  and  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
had  been  spent  by  her  in  a  vain  search  for  a  little 
sweetening  for  her  tea. 

Food  was  growing  scarcer  and  dearer  every 
day.  Her  place  was  in  the  country  gathering  in 
the  crops,  fighting  the  hunger  that  threatened 
these  pale  pinched  people  in  the  cities.  But  a 
change  of  work,  a  return  to  the  land,  would  mean 
facing  back  to  Droumavalla,  facing  back  to  old 
memories,  facing  back  to  Steve  and  Michael 
again.  For  a  little  while  she  had  lost  them  and 
been  happy.  Now  they  were  with  her,  now  they 
troubled  her  peace  as  the  longing  for  the  land 
besieged  her  heart.  And  in  that  still  hour  while 
Molly  slept  beside  her  she  remade  her  resolution 


242  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

not  to  return  home.  She  fought  down  the  craving 
for  the  life  she  loved,  a  life  that  could  only  be  pos- 
sible when  she  had  succeeded  in  burying  the  mem- 
ory of  the  two  brothers  very  deep  —  so  deep  in 
dark  forgetfulness  they  could  never  haunt  or  trou- 
ble her  soul  again.  It  seemed  a  wrong  and  a 
wicked  thing  to  put  the  thought  of  them  from  her 
mind,  but  she  could  not  face  the  world  otherwise. 
And  as  she  roused  her  sleeping  companion  she 
murmured  a  little  pitifully  as  if  to  reassure  her- 
self: 

"  Ah,  sure,  God  is  with  them  and  they  have 
good  prayers." 


THE  sugar  crisis  passed,  and  though  Kate  was 
condemned  to  drink  many  cups  of  unsweetened 
tea,  there  were  pleasant  times  when,  concentrat- 
ing on  one  meal  her  whole  ration  for  the  week,  she 
drank,  after  much  stirring  with  a  knife  handle, 
three  full  cups  that  might  have  been  poured  out 
in  pre-war  days  so  sweet  and  strong  were  they. 
Certainly,  there  were  depressing  Sundays  when  all 
had  gone  on  the  Saturday  night's  carouse,  when 
a  whole  week  without  a  grain  of  sugar  seemed  to 
stretch  endlessly  before  her.  But  quite  a  number 
of  interests  filled  up  her  leisure  moments,  and 
they  made  the  time  pass  with  such  surprising  swift- 
ness the  six  days'  fast  was  not  such  a  heavy  burden 
after  all. 

A  game  of  a  subtle  and  varied  nature,  played 
with  1316,  had  progressed  in  an  extraordinary 
fashion;  its  developments  filled  Kate's  mind  to 
the  exclusion  of  other  and  more  disagreeable  mat- 
ters. She  had  discovered  that  Tom  was  unable 
to  say  anything  harsh  and  unflattering  to  her.  If 
she  teased  him  he  would  become  melancholy  or 
sullen:  he  would  never  upbraid  her;  and  she  played 
upon  this  weakness  of  his,  and  upon  the  fact  that 
he  was  ever  ready  to  perform  little  acts  of  service 
for  her.  She  used  him  as  if  he  were  a  messenger 

243 


244  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

boy,  and  set  him  many  tasks  and  yet  failed  to  ex- 
haust his  patience.  She  also  discovered,  that  by 
merely  looking  at  him  between  the  eyes  without 
speaking,  he  became  awkward  and  uneasy,  shuffled 
his  large  feet,  tweaked  his  hair,  rubbed  his  ear  un- 
til it  was  scarlet,  blew  his  nose  and  hung  out  other 
signals  of  distress.  It  was  extremely  good  enter- 
tainment to  reduce  him  to  this  abject  state  of  fool- 
ishness, more  particularly  as  his  conversation  was 
not  as  varied  and  interesting  as  in  those  first  days 
of  their  acquaintance  in  Dublin.  He  had  lost 
his  large  interest  in  the  universe,  or,  rather,  it 
had  narrowed  down  to  an  interest  in  the  problem 
of  domesticity,  especially  the  financial  side,  and 
having  dwelt  upon  the  joys  of  a  little  villa  in  the 
suburbs,  he  would  grow  melancholy,  and  would 
talk  at  great  length  about  the  cost  of  living  and  the 
difficulties  facing  a  man  who  had  to  rear  a  long 
weak  family  in  war-time.  Kate,  on  every  possible 
occasion,  snubbed  this  latent  passion  for  domestic 
science,  and  tried  to  interest  him  in  other  topics; 
but  her  efforts  were  in  vain.  The  husband  and 
father,  the  family  man,  was  an  obsession  with 
him.  He  always  came  back  to  the  problem  of 
rearing  a  family,  and  decided  at  length,  with 
some  regret,  that  the  average  police  sergeant 
might  rear  a  family  of  four,  but  if  he  went  out- 
side that  limit  lean  days  were  before  him. 

Kate  soon  found  effectual  means  for  putting  an 
end  to  conversation  dealing  with  the  family  man. 
Whenever  1316  began  about  a  little  house  in 
Ranelagh,  and  the  difficulties  attendant  on  its  main- 
tenance, she  proceeded  to  talk  about  firemen,  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  245 

dilate  upon  the  dangers  of  their  life,  upon  their 
courage,  and  to  compare  most  unfavourably  the 
dark  uniforms  of  the  D.M.P.  with  their  beautiful 
scarlet  shirts.  The  shirt  was  like  a  red  rag  to  a 
bull,  and  on  occasions  made  1316  stamp  and  fume 
up  and  down  the  kitchen.  Kate's  words  were  not 
enough  to  put  him  into  this  wild  state,  there  was 
a  secret  spring  to  his  irritation.  At  this  particu- 
lar period  a  portion  of  his  working  hours  were 
spent  in  Brunswick  Street,  outside  the  fire  brigade 
station.  Kate,  on  her  free  afternoons,  would  go 
there  and  walk  up  and  down  outside  the  entrance 
to  the  station  in  order,  as  she  informed  1316,  that 
she  might  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  handsomest  men 
in  Dublin  as  they  passed  in  and  out  in  their  scarlet 
shirts. 

One  day  she  devised  another  torment  of  a  pe- 
culiarly excruciating  kind.  She  happened  to  have 
in  her  possession  an  old  broken  camera.  It  was 
against  the  law  to  use  a  camera  anywhere  in  Dub- 
lin, but  she  took  it  with  her  the  afternoon  she 
made  her  usual  journey  to  Brunswick  Street,  and 
planting  herself  outside  the  station,  pretended  to 
snap  any  stray  fireman  who  happened  to  be  hang- 
ing about  at  the  time. 

It  was  the  duty  of  a  policeman  who  perceived 
even  the  nose  of  a  camera  in  a  Dublin  street  to 
arrest  its  possessor.  The  law  was  quite  clear  as 
to  the  illegality  of  snapshots.  1316,  who  was 
standing  between  the  tram  lines  about  a  hundred 
yards  away  when  Kate  drew  this  offensive  article 
from  under  her  coat,  first  scowled,  then  stamped 
his  feet,  and  finally  turned  his  superb  back  on  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

transgressor,  taking  no  further  notice  of  her  what- 
ever. She  remained  near  the  station  for  about 
ten  minutes.  Then,  having  successfully  defied  the 
large  policeman  on  his  own  beat,  defied  the  law 
of  the  land,  committed  high  treason,  she  marched 
off  feeling  very  happy  and  pleased  with  herself. 

The  consequences  of  these  torments  were,  how- 
ever, of  a  disconcerting  and  unexpected  kind. 
Kate,  believing  she  had  made  herself  thoroughly 
odious  in  the  sight  of  1316,  learnt  one  evening 
that  she  was  the  object  of  his  affections,  that  he 
was  ready  to  spill  his  life's  blood  for  her  to  any 
extent  and  degree,  and  that  in  the  meantime  he 
was  prepared  to  rent  a  little  house  in  Ranelagh, 
consisting  of  four  small  rooms,  if  she  would  agree 
to  marry  him. 

Kate  had  refused  this  offer  with  such  fervour 
he  had  retired  hastily  and  awkwardly,  and  there 
had  been  no  news,  no  sign  of  him  for  over  a 
fortnight.  She  was  hurt  at  this  desertion  and 
wrote  to  him  inviting  him  to  tea  one  evening;  he 
had  replied  that  he  would  most  certainly  come  at 
the  hour  mentioned,  and  that  he  would  have  much 
to  say  to  her.  There  was  a  distinct  determination 
in  the  few  lines  he  had  penned,  lines  in  which  he 
assured  her  that,  as  long  as  she  was  unwed,  he 
would  not  give  up  hope.  This  alarming  declara- 
tion caused  her  to  take  fright  and  to  invite  Joe 
Spillane  to  tea  on  the  same  evening. 

She  felt  aggrieved  and  ill-used  because  she  liked 
Tom  Casey  very  much  as  a  companion.  It  was  a 
pity  to  spoil  their  pleasant  friendship  with  such  a 
foolish  proposal.  She  would  be  compelled  to  cut 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  247 

his  acquaintance  if  he  persisted  in  the  matter. 
When  he  chose,  when  domestic  study  did  not  oc- 
cupy his  mind,  he  was  the  most  interesting  member 
of  her  circle  of  men  friends.  It  would  be  a  pity 
to  lose  him,  and  yet  she  could  not  possibly  accept 
him  as  a  husband  nor  could  she  be  bothered  with 
his  love-making. 

She  thought  with  a  shiver  of  the  little  house 
like  a  box  in  Ranelagh  suggested  by  Tom  as  a 
fitting  home  for  them;  she  thought  of  the  miles  of 
other  little  houses  of  exactly  the  same  size  and 
shape,  of  the  narrow  life  with  its  limited  interests, 
which  was  the  lot  of  the  many  hundreds  of  wives 
who  lived  cooped  up  in  these  places  for  the  whole 
of  their  mortal  existence.  If  she  chose  such  a  life 
it  would  mean  that  her  freedom  would  be  taken 
from  her  and  that  she  would  rarely,  if  ever,  see 
the  country  she  loved.  It  could  not  be,  it  was  an 
impossibility,  and  yet  she  was  determined  to  keep 
Tom  Casey  as  a  friend.  They  would  have  to 
come  to  some  agreement;  she  must  speak  very 
plainly  to  him  that  evening.  Before  this  plain 
speaking,  however,  before  the  announcement  was 
made  that  he  must  give  up  all  hope  of  her,  he 
would  have  to  be  coaxed  into  a  good  humour,  and 
in  order  that  she  might  induce  in  him  this  very 
necessary  serenity  of  mind  she  made  elaborate 
preparations  for  his  tea. 

"  Ah,  my  Lord,  Molly,"  she  exclaimed  as  she 
put  cups  and  saucers  on  the  table;  "'tis  worth 
while  throwing  any  quantity  of  food  down  a  man, 
for  you  get  full  value  and  over  for  it;  but  'tis  dan- 
gerous waste  to  throw  it  down  a  woman." 


248  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  I  don't  know  that  'tisn't  waste  to  throw  it 
down  a  man  the  size  of  Tom,"  objected  Molly. 
"  Sure  a  whole  cow  wouldn't  feed  the  like  of  him. 
He'll  swamp  up  all  before  him.  That  loaf  and 
that  pot  of  jam  wouldn't  feed  a  little  bird  by  his 
ideas.  And  you're  giving  him  half  a  ration  of 
sugar.  You'll  be  demented  without  it." 

The  sugar  was  certainly  a  sacrifice  which  Kate 
made  very  willingly.  She  felt  that  if  she  could 
get  Tom  into  a  good  humour  she  could  make  him 
do  what  she  pleased.  A  half  ration  of  sugar  de- 
voted to  two  cups  of  tea  was  enough  to  put  any 
man  into  a  good  temper  in  war-time;  and,  count- 
ing upon  the  sweetening  of  his  tea  insuring  the 
sweetening  of  his  temper,  she  surveyed  her  prep- 
arations for  his  entertainment  with  some  pride. 

"  Ah,  we'll  make  great  sport  with  the  chaps 
this  evening,  Molly,"  she  cried.  "  I'll  be  count- 
ing on  your  minding  Joe  Spillane  as  if  you  were 
his  nurse,  for  I'll  have  more  than  a  word  to  say 
to  Tom." 

A  knock  at  the  door  prevented  any  reply. 
1316  had  arrived  punctually  to  the  moment;  and 
as  soon  as  he  entered,  Kate,  extending  a  pleasant 
friendly  greeting  to  him,  invited  him  to  seat  him- 
self in  the  largest  chair  in  the  room,  the  only  chair 
that  could  comfortably  support  his  substantial  per- 
son. Latterly,  though  it  was  war-time,  he  had 
put  on  much  weight,  and  had  now  the  portly  pres- 
ence and  awesome  figure  of  a  typical  member  of 
the  D.M.P. 

Much  to  Kate's  surprise  he  refused  the  prof- 
fered chair  and  stood  awkwardly  in  the  middle  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  249 

the  room  twirling  his  cap  round  between  his  fin- 
gers. She  began  to  tease  him  for  being  so  shy,  but 
she  had  scarcely  uttered  half-a-dozen  words  when 
he  made  a  violent  plunge  across  the  kitchen  and 
sank  heavily  into  the  chair  h-e  had  just  refused. 

"  It's  very  hot,"  he  remarked  in  an  unnaturally 
low  voice,  passing  his  hand  across  his  forehead 
and  then  rubbing  his  moistened  palm  against  his 
trousers.  "  Someways  I'm  always  warm  when  I 
come  in  here." 

"  Kate  is  always  hot  too.  That's  because  she's 
in  love,"  Molly  interjected  facetiously. 

"  Oh,  no,  love  is  a  cool  thing.  It  puts  you  in  a 
cold  sweat,"  Kate  looked  significantly  at  1318  as 
she  spoke,  and  then  noting  a  queer  gleam  in  his 
eyes  she  became  convinced  that  it  was  not  anxious 
love  alone  that  made  him  look  so  unhappy  and 
appear  so  uneasy;  there  was  some  secret  affliction 
weighing  upon  his  mind.  Her  first  impulse  was 
to  go  to  the  table  and  take  up  the  teapot  with 
the  intention  of  making  a  strong  brew  of  hot,  sweet 
tea  that  would  be  sure  to  console  him  and  put  his 
mind  at  ease.  But  his  trouble  was  of  an  infectious 
kind,  and  instead  of  opening  the  canister  under  her 
hand  she  let  her  fingers  play  among  the  tea-things 
and  make  a  clatter  with  the  spoons  and  cups,  finally 
remarking  nervously:  "  Last  winter  all  the  tea- 
pots were  broken  by  the  dint  of  frost." 

1316  made  no  reply;  he  pulled  at  his  ear  until 
it  was  the  colour  of  a  tomato,  tweaked  his  hair  and 
with  great  care  drew  a  large  circle  on  the  floor  with 
the  square  toe  of  his  boot. 

"  For  the  love  of  God  tell  us  what's  the  matter," 


250  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

burst  out  Kate  so  suddenly  that  Molly  jumped 
and  the  policeman  writhed  in  his  chair  with  a 
sinuous  movement  like  the  long  rolling  motion  of 
a  steamer  in  a  rough  sea. 

"  Matter,"  he  growled,  "  why,  everything's  the 
matter." 

"  Then  say  it  out  and  be  done  with  it,"  cried 
Kate  impatiently. 

"  A  draft  of  the  D.M.P.  is  to  be  sent  to  fight 
in  France.  Joe  Spillane  is  off  to-night  and  I'm  to 
go  in  three  weeks'  time." 

He  had  to  repeat  the  news  twice  over  before 
Kate  could  take  in  its  full  significance,  and  then 
she  stared  dully  at  him,  muttering:  "  A  draft  of 
the  D.M.P.,  a  draft  of  the  D.M.P.  And  I  sup- 
pose all  the  boys  I  know  are  going?  " 

"  Every  one,"  he  replied.  "  I  can  tell  you  it 
took  the  light  out  of  my  pipe  when  I  heard  it,  but 
now  I've  steadied  down  a  bit  and  I'm  ready  to 
face  in  to  what's  before  me." 

There  was  a  patter  of  eager  questions  from  the 
two  women,  and  when  1316  had  told  them  all  the 
circumstances  and  explained  that  there  was  no 
prospect  whatever  of  his  being  left  behind,  that 
it  was  as  certain  as  if  he  were  an  able-bodied  sol- 
dier that  he  would  be  sent  to  France  within  the 
month,  Kate  completely  lost  control  of  herself,  and 
as  she  paced  up  and  down  the  kitchen  poured  out 
a  torrent  of  rapid  angry  words. 

"  I'd  like  to  have  the  Kaiser's  skull  between  my 
two  bare  hands  I  would,  and  he  bringing  this 
cruel  war  down  on  us.  Oh,  why  wouldn't  he 
leave  us  alone?  Why  wouldn't  he  let  us  be  at 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  251 

peace?"  Kate  paused  to  wrestle  with  a  sob  in 
her  throat,  and  then  went  on  rather  pitifully. 
;'  The  Kaiser  don't  believe  in  God.  Sure,  I  don't 
know  how  he'd  face  Heaven  if  he  did.  If  he 
believed  he  wouldn't  do  it,  and  in  His  presence 
like.  Sure,  I  wouldn't  do  what  was  wrong  and 
the  presence  of  some  one  dear  to  me  in  the  house. 
.  .  .  Oh,  I'd  like  to  put  the  Kaiser  through  a 
mangle  I  would.  I'd  mangle  him  flat,  and  he 
trying  to  kill  all  the  men  in  the  world.  .  .  .  Sure, 
if  the  men  were  any  good  at  all  they'd  capture 
the  Kaiser  and  put  him  in  a  room  with  King 
George,  and  let  them  box  away  till  they're  beaten 
to  a  pulp,  till  they're  dead.  Look  at  them.  Not 
a  scratch,  not  a  breeze  touching  them,  and  all  the 
men  in  the  world  being  killed."  Kate  turned 
appealingly  to  1316.  He,  however,  had  appar- 
ently no  suggestions  to  make  as  to  the  methods  to 
be  adopted  in  order  to  bring  about  this  boxing 
match,  and  having  scratched  his  head  and  looked 
diffidently  about  him,  as  if  Kate's  appeal  did  him 
too  much  honour,  replied  with  a  forced  attempt  at 
lightness  : 

"  Oh,  the  Keyser's  a  queer  old  lad.  The  man 
who'd  kill  him  ought  to  get  a  rocking-chair  in 
Heaven." 

"  And  may  the  devils  dance  round  him  when 
the  end  comes,"  burst  out  Kate. 

"  They'll  dance  the  queer  old  hornpipe,"  inter- 
jected 1316,  with  a  horrible  attempt  at  gaiety. 

"  Don't,  Tom,  don't  talk  like  that,"  she  im- 
plored; "'tis  no  time  for  joking  ...  oh,  my 
God!" 


252  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Molly  quietly  withdrew  from  the  kitchen,  and 
Tom  rose  and  went  over  to  Kate,  who  had  pressed 
her  hands  against  her  face  and  was  trembling  and 
quivering  from  head  to  foot  as  if  she  had  suddenly 
been  struck  by  a  great  chill  force  that  stole  from 
her  all  power  over  her  limbs. 

"  Twon't  be  so  bad,  Kate,"  he  said.  "  You 
can't  be  sure  of  anything.  Maybe  I'll  come 
through  it  safe." 

"  All  the  men  in  the  world  being  killed,"  she 
muttered. 

"  I'd  like  dearly  to  have  stayed  at  home,"  he 
continued.  "  God  knows  I'd  have  been  readier 
for  it  any  other  time  but  this.  I'm  not  afraid  to 
go.  It's  something  else  I'm  minding.  I'd  set  my 
heart  on  that  little  house  in  Ranelagh,  and  we  two 
living  in  it.  There's  no  chance  of  it  now  .  .  . 
unless  —  unless  .  .  ." 

Kate  had  withdrawn  her  hands  from  her  eyes 
and  was  looking  at  him  as  he  hesitated,  seeking  for 
words  that  would  not  come,  and  looking  about 
him  anxiously.  "  Unless  — "  he  went  on.  "  Oh, 
it's  not  fair  to  say  it.  But,  Kate,  if  you'd  marry 
me  in  a  week  or  two  I'd  go  out  to  the  slaughter  a 
happy  man." 

"  I  couldn't,  Tom  —  I  couldn't,"  she  cried  ve- 
hemently; "there's  much  I'd  do  for  you,  but 
'twouldn't  be  right  to  do  that.  I'd  hate  the  little 
house;  I'd  hate  everything.  'Twould  be  a  wrong 
to  yourself  to  marry  you,  for  if  you  came  back 
you'd  find  I  didn't  care  for  you  the  way  you 
wanted,  and  you'd  be  mad." 

"  Ah,  that's  all  nonsense.     If  you  can  have  me 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  253 

as  a  friend  you  can  have  me  as  a  husband,  and  I 
cracked  about  you." 

"  I  couldn't  —  I  couldn't." 

"  So  you'll  let  me  go  without  a  word,"  he  said 
sadly;  "  I  can  see  I'm  not  worth  anything  to  you, 
but  maybe  you'll  give  a  thought  to  me  and  I  a 
corpse  riddled  with  balls." 

"  Ah,  stop,  Tom  —  stop,"  she.  implored. 

"  If  you  were  promised  to  me  even,  if  I  was 
sure  of  you  'twould  ease  my  mind  greatly."  He 
paused  only  to  break  out  wrathfully  a  moment 
later,  "  I  can't  go  off  to  France  and  I  wanting 
you  so  bad.  You'll  forget  me;  you'll  take  up 
with  some  other  fellow.  Oh,  Kate  —  Kate, 
would  you  let  me  face  out  to  my  death  without  a 
promise,  without  one  word  from  you?  " 

She  turned  away  her  face,  motioning  him  from 
her  with  her  hand.  "  Give  me  a  little  time,"  she 
begged.  "  I  don't  rightly  know  what  to  say,  I'm 
distracted.  Can't  you  let  me  be  a  while?  I'll 
have  an  answer  for  you  to-morrow  or  the  day  after 
maybe  —  only  leave  me  alone,  leave  me  a  short 
spell  to  myself." 

He  realised  that  he  might  spoil  the  effect  of 
his  appeal  if  he  stayed  any  longer.  So  he  bade  her 
good-bye  and  made  for  the  area  door.  As  soon 
as  it  closed  behind  him  she  went  out  into  the  pas- 
sage and  called  Molly,  asking  her  to  come  into 
the  kitchen  at  once.  She  had  a  craving  for  com- 
panionship, a  craving  for  some  one  to  talk  to,  some 
one  who  would  be  sympathetic  and  yet  would  not 
ask  questions.  She  wanted  to  put  off  the  difficult 
hour  when  she  would  have  to  wrestle  with  herself 


254  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  decide  what  was  best  for  her  to  do,  decide 
what  answer  she  would  make  to  Tom. 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  Kate,"  Molly  began;  "  it's  a 
terrible  overcome  for  you.  But  Tom  is  a  big  fel- 
low and  he'll  look  after  himself,  you  may  be  sure. 
Oh,  believe  me,  he's  as  safe  as  if  he  was  in  God's 
pocket." 

"  Indeed  he  isn't  safe,"  the  other  flashed  back. 
"  If  he  was  a  little  chap  he'd  win  through;  but  a 
great  long  fellow  like  him  has  no  chance.  A  man 
that  size  will  be  shot  down  at  once.  There's  no 
hope  for  him." 

"  You  mind  his  going  greatly? "  inquired 
Molly. 

"And  how  wouldn't  I  mind?  Himself  and 
Joe  Spillane  come  from  my  own  place.  Oh,  the 
lads  from  County  Cork  are  the  best  of  all.  You 
wouldn't  meet  their  equal  in  Ireland."  Kate  sat 
down  close  to  Molly,  and  putting  her  hand  on  the 
other's  lap  began  speaking  eagerly  and  quickly: 
"  You  wouldn't  know  —  not  being  there.  But 
when  I  was  a  girl  growing  up  we'd  great  times  in 
Droumavalla.  You'd  have  your  fill  of  joking  the 
year  through  and  the  harvest-time  would  be  grand 
altogether.  Fine  sprees  we'd  have.  I'd  be  danc- 
ing them  old  cob  wheels  and  sets  and  jigs  till  six  in 
the  morning,  and  then  I'd  go  home  and  light  the 
fire  and  start  the  day's  work." 

"  They  must  have  been  gamey  fellows  to  foot 
it  through  with  you  till  that  hour,"  said  Molly 
sympathetically. 

"  Sure,  they'd  bring  you  through  the  dance 
whether  you  were  on  your  feet  or  not.  Oh,  there 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  255 

never  was  a  nicer  lot  of  chaps  anywhere  than  at 
Droumavalla.  I  never  heard  them  say  an  ugly 
word,  and  they  wouldn't  give  you  a  bit  of  trouble. 
Most  of  them  were  poor  boys  out  of  labourers' 
cottages.  They'd  cut  great  hunks  of  bread  and 
hand  out  the  tea  in  mugs  and  wash  up  and  all  after 
the  dancing.  Then  off  with  them  to  the  hay,  and 
they'd  be  working  the  whole  day  and  dancing  the 
night  through  again.  Indeed,  they'd  learn  you  to 
live." 

With  a  little  sigh  Kate  relapsed  into  silence, 
and  for  a  while  Molly  said  nothing,  for  she  feared 
to  disturb  the  happy  look  on  her  friend's  face. 
Apparently  she  had  forgotten  that  Tom  would  be 
off  to  France  in  a  month ;  she  had  forgotten  every- 
thing; she  was  lost  in  a  dream  of  the  past.  Grad- 
ually, however,  the  brightness  left  her  face  as  the 
pictures  of  old  times  stole  back  into  the  depth 
of  memory  and  the  aggressive  present  harshly  out- 
lined itself  in  her  mind  again. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Molly  at  length,  "  what  made 
you  leave  Droumavalla  when  you  came  back  from 
America?  I'm  thinking  you'd  be  happier  there 
than  in  Dublin." 

Kate  looked  at  her  friend  with  heavy  eyes, 
replying:  "  I  left  Droumavalla  because  the  place 
was  empty,  because  of  the  great  loneliness.  There 
was  the  village.  You  could  walk  down  the  High 
Street  for  five  or  six  hours  at  a  stretch  and  not 
meet  a  soul  to  bid  you  the  time  of  day.  In  an 
alley  where  there'd  be  sixty  men  playing  skittles 
and  cards  there's  not  one  now.  All  the  lads  are 
gone  —  dead  in  France  years  ago  and  forgotten. 


256  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

It  might  have  been  another  war  it's  so  long 
ago.  .  .  .  Men  of  my  own  age  have  paid  their 
all.  .  .  ." 

Kate  broke  off;  she  was  about  to  tell  Molly 
the  history  of  Michael  and  Steve,  but  words  failed 
her,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  speak  further. 
And  when,  about  half  an  hour  later,  Molly  sug- 
gested she  should  go  to  bed  she  made  no  reply, 
merely  shaking  her  head  and  turning  her  face 
away. 

There  are  stories  that  cannot  be  told;  there 
are  periods  in  every  life  when  silence  is  the  only 
cure. 


CHAPTER  XV 

SAVE  for  a  glimmer  from  the  fire  the  kitchen  was 
in  darkness.  The  trams  had  ceased  running  and 
the  streets  were  silent;  at  last  noisy  Dublin  was  at 
rest,  and  the  time  for  quiet  thought  had  come. 
Kate's  mind  went  back  to  the  first  night  she  had 
spent  in  this  shabby,  restless  city  after  her  return 
from  America.  She  remembered  her  pleasure  at 
the  sight  of  the  crowds  that  thronged  O'Connell 
Street,  Westmoreland  Street  and  College  Green; 
she  recalled  her  intense  relief,  her  excitement  and 
great  joy  when  a  file  of  dark  uniformed  men  had 
marched  past  the  old  Parliament  Houses,  and  she 
had  recognised  two  faces  among  them,  faces  she 
had  known  since  childhood.  The  shadow  of  lone- 
liness, the  lurking  terror  of  a  world  empty  of 
man  had  passed  from  her;  she  had  felt  reassured 
and  consoled;  the  old  fresh  outlook  on  life  had 
become  hers  again. 

In  spite  of  her  first  difficulties  she  had  been 
very  happy  in  Dublin;  now  all  her  pleasure  in 
the  dawning  of  each  day  was  to  be  swept  away; 
Dublin  for  her  would  soon  be  almost  as  solitary 
as  Droumavalla.  And  yet,  if  she  had  been  able  to 
persuade  her  friends  in  the  police  force  to  desert, 
if  it  had  been  in  her  power  to  hide  them  from  the 
authorities,  she  would  not  have  used  that  power, 
she  would  not  even  have  tried  to  influence  Tom 
Casey.  She  had  no  patience  with  the  men  who 

257 


258  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

took  neither  side,  who  in  her  opinion  shirked  and 
therefore  were  no  men  at  all.  She  had  a  woman's 
respect  for  the  men  who  were  ready  to  fight  for 
their  beliefs  when  the  call  came;  and  while  she 
respected  them  she  felt  it  was  right  and  fitting 
they  should  defend  what  they  regarded  as  their 
country.  And  yet  she  mourned  over  the  departure 
of  the  D.M.P.,  for  those  huge  men  were  going  in 
most  cases  to  their  death  —  mourned  over  them 
as  she  had  mourned  over  the  boys  who  had  left 
Droumavalla  to  die  in  Gallipoli,  in  France  and  in 
the  rising  of  Easter  week.  All  of  them  were  fine 
men  cut  off  in  the  prime  of  life.  They  could  not 
be  replaced.  Where  would  two  such  boys  as 
Steve  and  Michael  be  found  again?  If  Eugene 
had  not  been  so  weak  he  would  have  possessed 
equally  with  them  what  she  appreciated  in  a  man; 
and  as  Kate  thought  <of  'him,  almost  involuntarily 
she  compared  him  with  Tom  Casey.  The  latter 
had  behaved  in  a  manly  way;  he  had  said  he  was 
ready  to  face  in  to  what  was  before  him,  at  any 
rate  he  was  no  coward.  And  yet,  though  he  had 
proved  himself  to  be  "  a  whole  man  "  he  was  not 
what  she  was  looking  for,  he  was  not  what  she 
desired. 

Her  head  was  burning,  but  her  limbs  were  stiff 
with  cold.  Rising  from  her  crouching  position  by 
the  range  and  stretching  herself  she  perceived  that 
the  latch  had  fallen  and  that  the  area  door  was 
ajar.  A  cool  breeze  came  in  through  the  opening, 
and  she  went  over  to  it  and  closed  it.  The  kitchen 
was  warm  enough;  the  numbness  left  her  limbs  in 
a  minute  or  two  as  she  moved  up  and  down  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  259 

room.  But  she  could  not  rid  herself  of  the  chill 
at  her  heart;  she  was  frightened  now,  so  frightened 
she  very  nearly  decided  to  rouse  Molly  and  get 
her  to  keep  her  company.  She  would  have  been 
thankful  for  the  noise  of  the  trams,  for  the  whis- 
tling of  late  strollers,  the  hoot  of  a  motor  horn,  any 
sound  that  would  divert  her,  keep  her  mind  from 
dwelling  on  the  horrible  possibility  that  like  some 
dark  face  seemed  to  peer  and  grin  and  mock  at 
her  out  of  the  heavy  twilight  of  the  future. 

Was  death  waiting  there  terrible  in  silence  and 
in  malignancy  —  waiting  to  snatch  away  her  happi- 
ness from  her  as  it  had  been  snatched  before? 
She  had  only  come  to  know  the  wish  of  her  own 
heart  when  it  was  too  late,  when  she  had  returned 
from  America  and  Steve  and  Michael  were  lost 
to  her  for  ever.  Was  she  going  to  make  that  mis- 
take again?  Would  she  find  when  she  had  turned 
away  from  Tom  Casey,  when  he  too  was  gone, 
that  she  loved  him? 

She  cried  out  in  her  pain,  and  then  shivered 
again.  Why  was  she  set  this  difficult  question? 
Why  when  she  had  extricated  herself  from  the 
misery  of  regret,  fled  from  the  scalding  memories 
that  hung  about  Droumavalla,  why  was  she  not 
allowed  to  follow  the  pleasant  way  of  life  she  had 
chosen?  And  again  she  thought  the  same 
thoughts  that  had  been  hers  the  night  she  had 
walked  home  from  Coomacarn.  God  was  hard 
and  pitiless;  He  was  without  mercy;  He  would 
not  permit  her  to  escape  from  the  consequences  of 
a  mistake  made  in  all  innocence,  made  in  the 
thoughtless  period  of  youth. 


260  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

The  blind  was  growing  pale,  the  darkness  was 
lifting  from  the  murky  streets  when  Kate  stopped 
in  her  walk  and  turned  to  leave  the  room;  she 
was  ready  for  sleep  at  last.  Faith  had  come  back 
as  the  future  cleared  for  her.  She  felt  that  an 
opportunity  had  been  given  her  to  make  up  for 
that  blunder  in  the  past,  and  she  dared  not  refuse 
it  lest  worse  misfortune  should  befall  her.  She 
must  do  what  Tom  wished  —  and  perhaps  in  time 
happiness  would  come  of  it.  She  regarded  him 
merely  a>s  a  friend,  but  she  could  not  let  him  go  out 
to  what  might  be  his  death  without  her  promise. 
She  was  not  prepared  to  risk  repeating  the  mistake 
she  had  made  before.  It  would  not  be  possible 
for  her  to  bear  the  burden  of  atonement,  the  bur- 
den of  hours  of  suffering  and  remorse  a  second 
time. 

Once  Kate  had  made  up  her  mind  she  was  swift 
to  act.  Two  days  later  she  summoned  1316,  sug- 
gested an  outing  together,  and  as  they  walked 
along  by  the  river  Dodder  informed  him  of  her 
decision,  and  promised  that  the  week  before  he 
went  out  to  France  she  would  marry  him. 

He  was  much  elated;  and  having  told  her  there 
had  never  been  such  love,  such  devotion  as  his  in 
the  world  before,  he  endeavoured  to  press  against 
her  cheeks  with  much  force  and  animation  his  own 
heavily  moustached  lips. 

Curiously  enough,  on  the  face  of  her  acceptance 
of  him,  this  action  of  his  annoyed  her  extremely; 
it  was  with  difficulty  she  restrained  her  first  im- 
pulse, which  was  to  strike  his  rosy  flabby  cheeks 
with  her  fist  in  no  gentle  or  even  playful  fashion. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  261 

However,  she  disengaged  herself  from  his  grasp  in 
a  sufficiently  peremptory  manner,  and  he  drew 
back  from  her  disconcerted  and  troubled,  inquir- 
ing nervously  whether,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  they 
were  engaged,  he  had  not  this  particular  right-of- 
way  across  her  countenance.  No  Dublin  street 
urchins  or  other  individuals,  who  might  be  enthu- 
siastically interested  in  such  amatory  attentions, 
were  in  sight.  It  was  therefore  both  a  seemly  and 
a  proper  occasion  for  this  ancient  and  approved 
method  of  setting  a  definite  seal  upon  an  engage- 
ment. 

Kate,  having  surveyed  1316  with  some  stern- 
ness and  stepped  back  so  that  there  was  another 
yard  or  more  between  them,  observed  coolly : 

"  You  know  well  I  don't  like  men  that  are  too 
hot  no  more  than  I  like  men  that  are  too  heavy." 

"  But  sure  I'm  in  love,"  he  protested. 

"  In  love,  is  it?  Listen  to  me  now,  Tom. 
You're  a  sensible  man  in  your  middle  years,  and 
you  should  know  at  this  time  of  day  that  love  is 
nothing  but  insanity.  I'm  no  more  in  love  with 
you  than  with  our  own  tom-cat  that  I  belted  with 
an  ash  plant  this  morning  for  eating  the  meat  on 
me.  Howsomever,  I've  a  liking  for  the  ould  puss 
as  I've  a  liking  for  you :  that's  the  way  it  stands. 
But  I  don't  want  any  coogling  or  coaxing  or  mak- 
ing sheep's  eyes  at  me.  So  you  may  take  it  or 
leave  it  as  you  please." 

"  I'll  take  anything,  Kate  —  I'll  take  anything. 
It's  gorgeous  to  have  you  my  own  anyway,  and 
you'll  come  round  in  time  —  never  fear."  1316, 
then,  very  wisely  refraining  from  further  atten- 


262  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

ti-ons  of  an  intimate  kind,  suggested  a  continuation 
of  their  walk,  and  as  they  strolled  along  the  river- 
bank  made  sage  comparisons  between  the  liberty 
enjoyed  by  a  married  woman  and  a  woman  m 
service;  he  assured  Kate  that  she  would  have  a 
free  hand  in  the  arrangement  of  the  little  house  he 
intended  to  offer  her,  and  for  nearly  two  hours  he 
expatiated  on  its  glories.  She  showed  no  enthu- 
siasm and  said  very  little  in  reply  to  his  long  state- 
ments of  prices  of  pots  and  pans,  furniture  and 
door-mats;  but  towards  the  end  of  the  walk  she 
began  to  feel  that  she  mightn't  be  doing  st)  badly 
in  getting  married  to  such  a  sensible,  level-headed 
man ;  and  having  come  to  this  conclusion,  and  be- 
ing of  a  generous,  open-handed  nature,  and  grate- 
ful for  Tom's  liberal  calculations  in  regard  to 
household  ware,  she  proffered  her  cheek  to  him 
when  dusk  had  fallen  and  the  chill  of  the  evening 
had  driven  other  couples  back  to  the  city. 

The  following  day  was  made  notable  by  the 
arrival  of  a  bulky  letter  from  Denis.  He  found 
it  difficult  to  express  himself  on  paper,  and  re- 
garded the  manipulation  of  a  pen  with  apprehen- 
sion, if  not  with  alarm.  He  wrote  to  Kate  about 
three  times  a  year,  and  in  this  particular  letter 
enclosed  a  five-pound  note  for  her  birthday,  and 
informed  her  that  he  was  sending  her  by  rail  a  sack 
of  potatoes,  some  prime  heads  of  cabbage  and  a 
goose,  as  she  had  told  him  the  last  time  she  wrote 
of  the  catastrophical  failure  of  the  sugar  supply, 
and  he  feared  for  her  health  if  she  did  not  obtain 
sufficient  nourishment  to  make  up  for  that  loss. 
She  had  just  decided  to  present  1316  with  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  263 

goose,  when  she  perceived  on  another  page  a  long 
P.S.  written  in  the  clerkly  hand  of  the  school- 
master, but  partly  dictated  by  Denis.  It  gave  her 
news  of  such  importance  she  promptly  burnt  the 
stirabout  she  was  making  for  breakfast  and 
smashed  an  egg-cup  with  a  violent  sweep  of  her 
hand. 

From  the  P.S.  she  learnt  that  John  Turpin  and 
his  wife  had  died  within  a  few  days  of  each  other, 
and  that  Eugene  had  become  the  owner  of  Cooma- 
carn  about  three  weeks  before  the  writing  of  the 
letter.  His  father  had  been  failing  for  several 
months,  and  he  had  been  virtually  master  of  the 
farm  and  of  the  old  man's  balance  in  the  bank  for 
some  time  before  his  death.  The  feeling  of  in- 
dependence, the  sense  of  ownership,  had  trans- 
formed him.  He  had  become  a  new  being,  and 
had  amazed  the  inhabitants  of  Droumavalla  by  his 
energy  and  his  intellect.  His  first  move  was  to 
invite  a  lecturer  down  from  the  Irish  Agricultural 
Organisation  Society.  This  gentleman  had 
formed  a  co-operative  society  among  the  farmers 
of  the  neighbourhood,  a  society  whose  object  was 
the  purchase  of  seeds  and  manures  at  wholesale 
prices,  and  also  various  machines  and  farm  imple- 
ments too  costly  for  any  one  member  to  buy  for 
himself.  Secondly,  a  general  store  was  started  in 
the  village,  owned  by  the  members  of  the  society, 
to  whom  were  sold  goods  required  by  them  at  what 
was  practically  cost  price.  Eugene,  having  done 
his  own  work  during  the  day,  had  spent  his  even- 
ings in  going  from  house  to  house  preaching  union 
among  the  farmers  and  gathering  in  new  members 


264  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

from  remote  parts  of  the  country.  But  he  was 
not  even  content  with  the  work  of  propaganda,  and 
he  now  had  plans  for  starting  a  mill  which  would 
belong  to  the  society  and  grind  the  members'  corn. 
For  the  organisation  had  been  a  great  success,  and 
much  time  and  money  had  already  been  saved  by 
the  farmers. 

The  letter  containing  this  information  was  writ- 
ten on  exercise  paper,  and  Kate,  having  gathered 
its  contents,  let  the  sheets  flutter  from  her  hand  to 
the  ground  as  she  stared  idly  before  her.  It  was 
just  the  work  she  would  have  loved  to  share  with 
Eugene.  The  planning,  the  contriving,  the  strat- 
egy that  were  necessary  to  get  all  those  men  to 
stand  together  were  exactly  after  her  own  heart, 
especially  when  it  meant  the  improvement  of  land, 
the  saving  of  time  and  labour  on  the  farm.  A 
typed  letter  from  the  head  office  of  the  I.A.O.S. 
was  enclosed  with  the  other.  It  stated  that  the 
creation  of  the  society,  its  ensuing  prosperity,  were 
almost  entirely  due  to  Mr.  Turpin's  energy  and 
activity.  He  had  accomplished  this  work  single- 
handed,  for  it  had  been  difficult  for  the  farmers 
to  understand  the  nature  of  a  co-operative  society, 
and  the  organiser  sent  to  them  had  not  been  able  to 
stay  with  them  long.  Kate  recalled  Eugene's 
words:  "  It's  the  land  makes  the  man;  "  and  for 
the  first  time  since  she  had  left  Droumavalla  she 
wondered  if  she  had  judged  him  wrongly.  Per- 
haps he  had  been  right  to  sacrifice  himself,  to  allow 
himself  to  be  ill-used,  to  cringe  to  his  father  for 
the  sake  of  Coomacarn;  but  he  had  no  right  to  sac- 
rifice his  brothers,  to  keep  them,  as  she  believed, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  265 

divided;  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  forgive  him 
that. 

Though  she  felt  hot  and  angry  as  she  thought  of 
the  last  afternoon  she  had  spent  with  Eugene,  she 
did  not  attempt  to  banish  him  from  her  thoughts. 
She  took  up  the  sheets  she  had  dropped  and  read 
them  carefully  through  a  second  time.  As  she 
was  putting  them  back  in  the  envelope  she  came 
upon  a  scrap  of  paper  tucked  into  one  corner  of 
it.  This  was  a  further  P.S.  written  by  Denis  two 
days  later  than  the  rest  of  the  letter.  In  it  he 
stated  that  the  goose  was  a  gift  from  Eugene, 
that  in  a  few  days'  time  he  was  going  to  Dublin 
to  attend  the  annual  general  meeting  of  the  Irish 
Agricultural  Organisation  Society,  at  which  he  was 
to  speak,  and  that  he  wished  to  know  if  he  might 
call  and  see  her. 

Kate's  first  feeling  was  one  of  intense  pleasure. 
He  still  wished  to  see  her,  in  spite  of  the  cold 
letter  she  had  written  him ;  'he  still  thought  of  her, 
though  now  he  was  a  leader,  busy  with  great 
schemes,  looked  up  to  by  all  the  people  of  the 
village.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  her  pleasure,  she 
recognised  that  such  a  meeting  would  be  a  folly 
and  she  dared  not  permit  it.  She  was  afraid  of  his 
power  over  her;  it  was  strange  that  a  weak  man 
could  move  her  so  deeply,  cause  her  to  lose  con- 
trol of  herself,  and  she  felt  ashamed  and  disturbed 
all  that  day,  and  was  only  partly  reassured  when 
a  letter  to  Denis  was  written  and  despatched.  It 
contained  a  curt  message  for  Eugene,  which  was 
to  the  effect  that  she  would  not  see  him  and  wished 
to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him  ever  again. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

1316  called  that  evening,  and  when  she  had 
talked  to  him  for  a  little  while  all  doubt  as  to 
whether  she  had  acted  rightly  left  her.  The  hour 
for  Tom's  departure  was  drawing  near,  and  he 
was  in  one  of  his  melancholy  moods,  and  told  her 
gruesome  tales  of  the  sufferings  of  the  troops  in 
France.  So  harrowed  were  Kate's  feelings  she 
allowed  him  to  embrace  her,  when  Molly  was  not 
looking,  in  the  discreet  shelter  of  certain  petticoats 
that  were  hanging  on  the  clothes-line  which  was 
suspended  across  the  kitchen. 

A  feeling,  not  so  much  of  affection  as  of  tender- 
ness, possessed  her  for  this  large  healthy  man. 
She  felt  a  little  like  a  mother  whose  child  is  con- 
demned to  go  out  into  the  dark  all  alone.  The 
dread  of  that  night  over  France  that  would  so  soon 
gather  thickly  about  Tom,  so  soon  swallow  him 
up  in  all  his  great  strength  and  fine  brave  mas- 
culinity, made  her  long  to  do  anything  in  her 
power  to  serve  him.  He  behaved  in  a  very  manly 
way;  he  did  not  complain;  he  showed  no  fear 
though,  on  this  particular  evening  at  any  rate,  he 
had  apparently  made  up  his  mind  that  for  him 
there  would  be  no  return. 

She  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  make  the  most 
of  these  last  days,  to  give  him  what  happiness  was 
within  her  power.  She  wanted  very  badly  to  lay 
all  her  possessions  at  his  feet.  And  yet,  when  she 
came  to  review  them  in  her  mind,  such  generosity 
seemed  scarcely  appropriate  to  the  occasion  or 
even  advisable.  Her  clothes,  those  precious  petti- 
coats hanging  on  the  line  for  instance,  would 
scarcely  give  him  satisfaction  —  not  even  the 


267 

shadow  of  the  thrill  she  had  experienced  in  buying 
them  would  be  his  when  he  received  them  from 
her.  He  might  even  regard  them  as  a  joke  in 
rather  bad  taste  instead  of  a  very  real  sacrifice. 
Her  new  umbrella  with  the  silver  knob  and  the 
"gosling,"  her  deep,  yellow  hat,  prized  posses- 
sions, would  also  be  most  unsuitable  offerings. 
Inspiration,  however,  came  to  her  in  a  moment. 
She  would  make  him  a  present  of  fifty-two  of  the 
back  numbers  of  Erin's  Own.  They  were  both 
valuable  and  interesting  documents,  as  they  con- 
tained the  complete  serial  of  "  Dicing  with 
Death,"  and  their  "  Chats  with  the  Doctor " 
should  most  certainly  be  useful  to  Tom  in  view  of 
the  privations  before  him.  Why,  in  the  very  last 
number  a  whole  column  was  devoted  to  the  cure  of 
an  aching  corn,  and  wise  suggestions  were  made  as 
to  the  dissipation  of  inflammation  of  the  great  toe. 
The  author  of  these  counsels,  being  too  genteel  to 
use  the  ordinary  term  for  this  affliction,  refrained 
from  calling  it  a  bunion. 

Kate  was  about  to  administer  consolation  to 
1316  by  telling  him  she  intended  to  offer  him 
this  princely  gift  when  there  came  a  knock  at 
the  area  door.  Molly  answered  it,  and,  after  a 
brief  altercation,  bore  into  the  kitchen  in  her  arms, 
holding  it  as  if  it  were  a  baby,  an  immense  parcel, 
from  which  protruded  two  yellow  claws  and  the 
beak  and  neck  of  a  bird.  Brown  paper  still  cov- 
ered the  body,  and  the  bird  merely  looked  as  if  it 
had  grown  out  of  its  clothes. 

"  Miss  Carmody,  Hatch  Street,"  Molly  read 
the  address  aloud,  and  then  flung  her  burden  into 


268  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Kate's  arms,  who,  promptly  tearing  off  the  paper, 
revealed  the  plump  proportions  of  a  large  goose. 
She  did  not  hesitate,  or  even  pause  to  consider  the 
wisdom  of  her  action,  but,  in  her  turn,  flung  it  into 
the  arms  of  1316,  saying  carelessly: 

"  Here,  take  the  old  bird.  'Twill  make  you  a 
fine  dinner  on  Sunday,  and  will  give  you  your  fill 
of  eating." 

1316  was  enchanted  with  this  gift,  and  having 
protested  that  he  could  not  on  any  account  accept 
it,  and  having  in  the  same  breath  extravagantly 
thanked  Kate  for  this  kingly  dinner,  he  asked  her 
if  the  bird  —  and  there  never  had  been  such  a  bird 
hatched  out  before  —  was  sent  from  County  Cork 
from  her  brother  Denis. 

It  was  an  unfortunate  question,  as  it  reminded 
Kate  of  the  P.S.,  which  informed  her  that  Eugene 
was  sending  her  a  goose.  She  turned  very  red 
and  looked  very  foolish,  replying  at  length  with  a 
stammer  that  nobody  had  sent  it  to  her  from  the 
country. 

"Who  is  nobody?"  inquired  1316. 

"  Oh,  somebody  you  don't  know  a  bit  about," 
she  returned  shortly,  and  though  he  pressed  her, 
she  refused  to  tell  him  the  name  of  the  donor. 
She  felt  so  upset  at  the  reflection  that  it  was  Eu- 
gene's goose,  and  by  the  thought  that  she  should 
most  certainly  send  it  back  to  him,  that  she  at 
length  asked  1316  to  return  it  to  her. 

He  carnivorously  smiled,  and  shook  his  head. 
"  Give  it  back  to  you !  Oh,  I  wouldn't  part  with 
it  for  anything  in  the  world,  not  for  all  the  riches 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  269 

of   the    stout    and   porter   people  —  Guinness,    I 
mean." 

"  But  you  said  you  felt  you'd  no  right  to  take 
it,  that  you  couldn't  on  any  account  accept  it,"  she 
objected.  "  It's  a  shame  to  force  a  goose  on  an 
unwilling  man." 

"  Sure,  'twas  only  a  manner  of  speaking,"  he 
replied,  stroking  the  bird's  broad  breast  affection- 
ately; "  this  goose  is  a  gorgeous  present,  Kate  — 
gorgeous.  It's  the  first  thing  you've  ever  given 
me,  and  I  set  great  store  by  it.  Indeed,  I'd  like 
to  have  it  stuffed  and  put  in  a  glass  case  I  value 
it  so  highly." 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said  in  the  face 
of  such  enthusiasm;  and  a  little  later  1316  de- 
parted, fondly  clasping  the  goose  to  his  broad 
chest,  in  great  spirits  at  the  advance  he  had  evi- 
dently made  in  Kate's  affections,  and  much  cheered 
by  the  prospect  of  Sunday's  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

EUGENE  had  called,  and  had  been  refused  admit- 
tance by  Molly,  who»had  been  sent  to  the  door  for 
this  purpose,  and  Kate'-s  agitation  was  set  at  rest. 

On  the  morning  following  his  visit  the  entire 
Barry  fa-mily  departed  for  the  country,  where  they 
intended  to  spend  a  week-end.  The  meeting,  at 
which  Eugene  was  to  be  present,  was  open  to  the 
public,  and  took  place  early  in  the  day,  and  Kate 
obtained  permission  from  her  mistress  before  she 
left  to  go  out  at  that  particular  hour. 

She  would  only  spend  a  few  minutes  at  the 
meeting.  She  wanted  to  see  if  Eugene  were 
changed,  and  once  having  satisfied  herself  on  this 
point  would  slip  out  again.  When  she  reached 
the  Gresham  Hotel  in  O'Connell  Street  she  hung 
about  the  entrance  for  a  minute  or  two,  then  per- 
ceiving some  men  evidently  up  from  the  country, 
followed  them  through  the  vestibule,  and  her  name 
having  been  taken  by  a  youth  wearing  a  badge, 
entered  a  large  hall  almost  full  of  farmers  —  there 
could  be  no  mistaking  their  trade  —  and  a  sprin- 
kling of  women  among  them.  The  meeting  was 
already  in  progress,  and  suddenly  feeling  shy  and 
awkward,  Kate  slipped  into  a  seat  not  far  from 
the  door.  A  grey-bearded  man,  with  a  pale  face 
and  narrow  shoulders,  was  speaking.  He  did  not 
look  like  a  farmer  in  Kate's  opinion,  and  yet, 

270 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  271 

though  she  was  not  able  to  follow  all  he  said,  he 
showed  great  knowkdge  of  the  difficulties  farmers 
had  to  face,  and  she  applauded  him  vigorously 
when  he  sat  down,  informing  in  a  whisper  a  sharp- 
featured  woman  who  sat  next  her  that  he  was  a 
fine  little  chap,  and  had  done  very  well  indeed. 

The  chairman  having  addressed  the  meeting, 
men  of  various  kinds,  tall  and  stout,  long  and  thin, 
speaking  in  the  soft  sing-song  speech  of  the  south, 
in  the  sharp  curt  accents  of  the  north,  or  occasion- 
ally in  the  Dublin  nasal  twang,  succeeded  each 
other  with  monotonous  regularity.  And  though 
their  speeches  interested  Kate  prodigiously,  she 
gradually  became  impatient  and  anxious,  afraid 
that  she  might  miss  Eugene  and  not  see  him  after 
all.  Time  was  passing,  she  could  only  stay  for 
another  five  minutes  or  so. 

An  old  man  from  Wexford  had  just  ended  a 
truculent,  rather  quarrelsome  harangue  by  shaking 
his  fist,  and  by  being  pulled  down  into  his  seat  by 
his  companions,  when  there  was  a  stir  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  hall,  and  a  tall  spare  figure  arose.  The 
face  was  hidden,  but  scarcely  had  the  words  "  Mr. 
Chairman  "  been  uttered  than  Kate  half-started  to 
her  feet  with  a  muffled  cry.  A  murmur  of  "  Or- 
der, order,"  caused  her  to  sink  back,  crouching 
down  in  her  seat,  ashamed  and  deeply  troubled. 
The  speaker  continued  without  even  turning  his 
head,  giving  out  in  a  clear,  resolute  voice  an  ac- 
count of  the  work  accomplished  by  the  society  at 
Droumavalla,  of  the  great  opposition  that  had 
to  be  overcome  and  of  the  obstacles  that  one  by 
one  had  been  laid  low. 


272  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

It  was  Eugene  Turpin,  and  he  spoke  with  the 
old  warmth  that  had  characterised  his  utterances 
whenever  he  had  talked  of  Coomacarn  and  the 
land.  His  enthusiasm  infected  his  listeners;  his 
speech  was  punctuated  by  bursts  of  clapping,  and 
at  the  end  'he  received  round  upon  round  of  ap- 
plause. 

A  mist  veiled  Kate's  eyes,  and  a  sensation  of 
such  intoxicating  happiness  swept  over  her  for  a 
little  while  she  lost  consciousness  of  where  she  was, 
and  she  could  not  have  stirred  from  her  place  if 
she  had  been  bidden  to  rise.  When  at  length  she 
recovered  her  composure  she  wanted  to  go  up  to 
Eugene  and  clap  him  on  the  back,  and  tell  him 
how  proud  she  was  to  know  him,  but  he  was  five 
rows  nearer  the  platform,  and  she  was  afraid  the 
little  man  with  the  grey  beard  might  rise  and 
denounce  her  if  she  attempted  to  show  her 
satisfaction  in  this  particularly  vigorous  way.  It 
would  be  terrible  to  be  called  to  order  and  perhaps 
forcibly  ejected  from  the  hall.  So,  having  glanced 
once  more  at  the  back  of  Eugene's  tumbled  head 
of  hair,  she  pushed  out  past  the  sharp-featured 
woman,  and  in  a  minute  or  two  was  in  the  street 
making  her  way  home  again. 

Kate  was  very  busy  during  the  rest  of  the  day, 
as  a  mild  spring  cleaning  had  to  be  carried  out  in 
the  absence  of  the  family.  She  was  sitting  in  the 
kitchen  feeling  rather  tired,  after  much  moving  of 
furniture  and  scrubbing  of  floors,  when  1316  made 
his  appearance  in  company  with  Molly,  who  had 
gone  out  on  a  message.  His  manner  was  strange 
and  his  fashion  of  procedure  unusual.  Instead  of 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  273 

gaping  at  his  betrothed  from  the  doorway  as  was 
his  custom,  he  crossed  the  room  in  two  enormous 
strides,  and  grasping  Kate's  arm  exclaimed: 

11  I've  grand  news  —  grand  news.  You'll  be 
hopping  for  joy  when  you  hear  it.  They're  not 
going  to  send  the  D.M.P.  to  France.  And  though 
I  wouldn't  mind  a  crack  at  the  Germans  myself, 
still  and  all  it's  far  better  to  stay  at  home,  because 
—  because  I  have  you,  Kate,  and  we  can  get  mar- 
ried as  soon  as  we  please." 

She  had  prayed  hard  that  this  fine  man  should 
be  spared,  that  he  should  not  be  sent  out  to  the 
carnage  in  France,  and  now  that  her  prayer  was 
granted  she  was  dismayed  beyond  words.  With 
a  great  effort  she  managed  to  conceal  her  trouble 
and  pretend  to  a  pleasure  she  did  not  feel  with  her 
whole  heart.  But  it  irked  her  to  be  compelled  to 
act  a  part,  she  who  had  always  been  straight- 
forward in  her  methods  and  frank  in  her  speech. 
What  was  particularly  trying  was  his  announce- 
ment, "  I  have  you,  Kate,"  and  the  air  of  pro- 
prietorship he  assumed  as  if  she  were  an  article 
of  furniture  that  had  just  come  into  his  possession. 
It  rankled  that  she  should  be  owned  by  him,  as  it 
were,  be  one  of  his  possessions  just  as  much  as  the 
pair  of  square-toed  boots  on  his  feet  were  his 
particular  belongings,  and  could  not  be  worn, 
even  if  they  fitted,  by  any  one  else.  He  was 
obstinate  and  determined,  wedded  to  his  own 
particular  ideas.  If  she  married  him  she  would, 
like  these  same  boots,  have  to  trim  and  pare  and 
wear  herself  into  his  habits  and  particular  methods 
of  life.  That  would  mean  a  change  of  character 


274  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

for  herself;  if  such  a  process  was  followed  out 
they  would  come  to  resemble  each  other  in  time. 
And  now,  as  she  watched  him,  while  he  talked 
eagerly  and  fluently,  she  wondered  if  she  would 
grow  red  and  flabby  like  him  and  have  to  let  out 
her  clothes  at  intervals  in  order  to  keep  pace  with 
increasing  corpulency;  would  she  live  like  him 
for  the  pleasures  of  Guinness'  stout,  salt  meat, 
heavy  viands,  the  little  house  in  Ranelagh  and 
an  occasional  discussion  of  the  Herald  in  which 
his  word  would  be  law?  Would  there  be  nothing 
else  in  her  life,  no  fine  plans  and  schemes  like 
those  of  Eugene,  no  gradual  building  up  of  a 
farm  and  of  a  society,  no  continual  making  and 
moulding,  no  contriving,  no  watch  over  gradual 
growth,  no  final  triumph  of  creation? 

These  questions  Kate  put  to  herself  in  her  own 
way,  and  the  answer  came  back  to  her  so  clearly 
she  turned  from  Tom  with  a  writhe  of  disgust. 

"What's  up,  Kate?"  he  inquired  reproach- 
fully. "  I  don't  believe  you've  been  listening  at 
all." 

"Oh,  I  have  —  I  have,"  she  replied  hastily; 
"  but  I  didn't  catch  the  last  thing  you  were  saying." 

"  I  was  telling  you  about  three  lovely  little 
houses,  with  four  rooms  apiece,  not  far  from  the 
tram  line.  One  is  called  Windsor,  the  other 
Buckingham  Palace,  the  other  Balmoral.  Their 
names  speak  for  themselves;  they're  very  choice 
and  genteel.  They're  only  built  six  months,  and 
they're  to  let.  Any  one  of  them  would  suit  us  to 
a  T.  It's  up  to  you  to  come  out  and  have  a  look 
at  them  some  day." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  275 

"  I  won't  go  out  and  look  at  them,"  cried 
Kate,  rising  quickly  from  her  chair;  "I  won't 
go  near  them.  I'm  sick  of  your  little  houses. 
I  don't  want  to  hear  one  word  more  about  them 
ever  again."  Her  voice  trembled  as  she  uttered 
these  last  words,  and  without  waiting  for  an 
answer,  with  her  hand  to  her  face,  hurried  across 
the  room  and  out  into  the  passage,  banging  her 
bedroom  door  behind  her. 

'What  in  the  livings  earth  is  the  matter?" 
exclaimed  1316,  turning  to  Molly,  his  jaw 
dropping  in  dismay. 

"She's  ill.  She's  feeling  bad;  I'm  sure  she's 
feeling  bad.  People  always  go  on  that  way  when 
their  innards  are  disturbed  like." 

"  She'll  be  back  in  a  while  maybe,"  Tom  replied, 
and  there  being  no  more  to  say  and  the  situation 
being  an  awkward  one,  he  solemnly  grunted  three 
times,  then  drawing  out  his  pouch  pared  off  a  hunk 
of  tobacco  with  his  knife  and  put  it  in  his  mouth. 
They  had  not  been  alone  together  since  the  pres- 
entation of  the  bog  oak  brooch,  and  he  did  not 
feel  exactly  at  his  ease,  and  therefore  took  refuge 
in  tobacco,  which,  when  chewed  in  large  quantities, 
is  a  solid  obstacle  to  speech,  soothes  the  nerves, 
and  is  also  of  assistance  in  regard  to  the  working 
of  the  brain  when  it  is  puzzled  and  befogged  and 
requires  a  stimulant. 

Molly  had  no  tobacco  to  chew ;  there  was  noth- 
ing to  assist  her  in  concealing  her  embarrassment 
or  her  nerves,  and  she  would  have  left  the  room 
at  once  if  her  interest  had  not  been  intensely  ex- 
cited by  Windsor,  Balmoral  and  Buckingham 


276  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Palace.  After  several  coughs  and  after  much 
scraping  of  her  shoes  against  the  stone  floor,  she 
told  1316  that  she  had  been  very  struck  with  the 
account  he  had  given  of  these  mansions,  and  that 
she  was  longing  to  hear  more  about  them,  as  the 
one  craving  of  her  life  was  to  possess  such  a  little 
house  as  he  had  described. 

Tom  promptly  confided  in  her  that  he  hated 
barrack  life,  and  that  her  craving  was  his  also. 
He  mourned  over  the  fact  that  Kate  did  not  share 
his  passion,  but  gradually  brightened  as  Molly, 
by  dint  of  sympathetic  questions  and  very  feeling 
remarks  concerning  the  joys  of  domesticity  and 
family  life,  led  him  to  deliver  a  long  and  eloquent 
harangue  dealing  with  suburban  residences  in 
general,  the  needs  of  the  inmates,  and  little 
arrangements  both  of  a  useful  and  artistic  nature 
which,  if  supplied  in  the  proper  quantities,  greatly 
added  to  the  felicity  of  the  household.  Attached 
to  Buckingham  Palace,  whose  interior  had  been 
already  described  by  him,  was  a  vegetable  garden, 
eight  yards  by  five,  in  which  onions,  potatoes, 
radishes  and  cabbages  could  be  sown.  Land  was 
a  decided  attraction,  as  he  could  work  at  it  in  his 
spare  hours,  and  thus  keep  the  family  supplied 
with  vegetables  throughout  the  year.  Indeed,  for 
the  sake  of  the  mere  feeling  of  possession,  he 
longed  to  be  a  property  owner,  longed  to  be  able 
to  look  round  and  say,  u  All  this  is  mine;  no  man 
has  a  right  to  a  morsel  of  it  except  myself  and  my 
wife." 

1318  continued  with  glib  and  enthusiastic 
phrases  to  depict  the  pleasures  of  such  a  life, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  277 

while  Molly  listened  enraptured,  mentally  assur- 
ing herself  that  such  a  man  was  wasted  on  Kate. 
She  could  not  appreciate  his  fine  mind,  with  its 
rare  understanding  of  the  proper  kitchen  require- 
ments, nor  his  tasty  ideas  as  regards  the  ornaments 
of  the  parlour  —  essential  beauties  of  the  nature 
of  a  gilt  clock  decorated  with  marble  figures,  pro- 
tected by  a  glass  shade,  artificial  bouquets  of 
flowers,  stuffed  robins  and  wrens,  blithe  cheerful 
mottoes  such  as  "  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  "  A  Hun- 
dred Thousand  Welcomes,"  "  A  Watched  Pot 
Never  Boils,"  etc.  Such  objects  must,  of  course, 
accumulate  gradually;  it  would  be  impossible  for 
any  family  man  to  pay  down  sufficient  money  to 
secure  them  all  at  once.  The  gilt  clock  might  first 
be  acquired;  it  gave  tone  to  any  parlour,  suggesting 
that  its  owner  was  a  man  of  worth  and  wealth; 
then  in  the  following  year  robins  and  wrens  should 
be  purchased,  as  they  were  both  instructive  and 
ornamental,  teaching  the  young  idea  to  shoot. 
Oh,  there  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  decorations  of 
the  parlour  being  extremely  important,  giving  a 
man  standing  and  position  in  the  eyes  of  his 
neighbours,  developing  a  taste  for  the  beautiful 
in  young  people ;  and  though  the  gradual  purchase 
of  these  objects  would  cripple  the  family  income 
for  years  to  come,  they  would,  on  the  other  hand, 
be  an  incentive  to  saving  and  to  the  exercise  of 
frugal  methods. 

About  half-past  ten  in  the  evening  1316 
suddenly  realised  that  for  over  two  hours  he  had 
been  talking  to  Molly  as  if  she  were  his  promised 
bride,  he  had  been  discussing  with  her  the  arrange- 


278  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

ments  of  a  house  in  a  tone  and  manner  that  sug- 
gested in  its  warmth  and  deference  that  she  was 
to  be  its  mistress.  He  had  been  carried  away 
by  her  sympathy,  and  "  the  cold  sweat  "  that  Kate 
had  described  as  the  necessary  accompaniment  of 
love-making  broke  out  upon  his  forehead;  but  it 
was  engendered  by  a  fear  that  Molly  might  have 
misunderstood  him,  and  so  he  bade  her  a  brusque, 
rather  uncivil  good-bye  and  fled  the  kitchen. 

When  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  had  died  away, 
and  there  was  no  fear  of  his  return,  she  drew  out 
the  bog  oak  brooch  from  her  pocket  —  it  was 
never  worn  now  —  and  contemplated  the  black  cat 
sadly.  In  a  little  while  she  sniffed  with  a  sonority 
uncommon  in  a  Dubliner,  whose  nasal  acoustics 
are  as  a  rule  extremely  ineffective,  then  as  the 
black  cat's  diamond  eyes  winked  wickedly  up  at 
her  a  tremolo  of  sniffs  followed  one  upon  the  other 
in  quick  succession,  and  two  large  tears,  detaching 
themselves  from  her  eyelids,  slowly  rolled  down 
her  cheeks. 

In  the  meantime  Kate  was  sitting  in  her  room 
in  a  state  of  dumb  misery.  She,  who  had  tried  to 
steer  a  clear  course  and  avoid  regrets  of  any  kind, 
was  now  being  sucked  down  into  their  depths  a 
second  time.  She  wondered  if  she  had  been 
cursed  in  childhood,  wondered,  with  the  wonder 
common  to  many  millions  of  people,  why  her  lot 
was  so  much  harder  and  more  difficult  than  that 
of  others.  Sure  that  her  own  judgment  was  on 
the  whole  sound,  she  had  confidently  believed  she 
could  order  her  life  in  a  way  that  was  both  happy 
and  pleasant  for  herself  and  for  her  friends. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  279 

That  certainty  was  rudely  shaken  on  her  arrival 
home  from  America,  but  confidence  in  herself  had 
not  been  entirely  destroyed  till  now  when,  for  the 
first  time,  a  feeling  of  fatalism,  a  sense  of  inevi- 
table destiny  took  possession  of  her.  It  was  no 
use  struggling,  she  had  tried  in  vain  to  do  what 
was  right;  it  would  be  better  to  let  things  take 
their  course,  better  to  lay  down  her  arms  and 
surrender  at  once  to  the  invisible  power. 

In  this  quiet  hour,  when  she  was  alone  in  her 
room,  she  saw  her  position  quite  clearly.  The 
prospect  of  living  with  Tom  for  the  rest  of  her 
life  was  repulsive  to  her;  she  shrunk  from  it;  it 
made  her,  in  certain  wild  moments  during  that 
hour  when  her  mind's  eye  conjured  up  a  vision 
of  him  in  all  his  rubicund  flabbiness,  almost  mad 
with  fear.  And  yet  he  had  very  good  qualities, 
and  many  people  would  envy  her  and  think  her 
a  lucky  woman.  They  would  say  with  truth  that 
you  could  not  expect  very  much  from  a  man. 
He  was  warm-hearted,  and  though  perhaps 
truculent  and  fond  of  his  own  way,  at  least  he 
would  be  kind.  He  was  generous  and  open- 
handed,  and  would  never  drink  his  wages  or  keep 
them  to  himself;  worst  of  all,  he  trusted  her, 
believed  she  was  a  woman  of  her  word  and  would 
keep  her  share  of  the  bargain. 

There  was  no  way  out  that  she  could  see;  she 
could  no  more  bring  herself  to  break  her  word 
than  she  could  bring  herself  to  break  a  holy  image 
on  the  altar  of  her  church.  She  despised  a  woman 
who  lightly,  carelessly  broke  solemn  promises  as 
much  as  she  despised  weakness  in  men.  And  Tom 


280  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

was  not  weak;  she  had  not  even  the  excuse  that 
he  did  not  fulfil  her  measure  of  a  man.  Oh,  there 
was  no  escape;  she  was  caught  in  a  net  woven  by 
herself,  and  yet,  as  is  usually  the  case  in  life,  it 
was  another  and  an  unseen  hand  that  had  so  tightly 
drawn  the  meshes  round  her. 

When  Kate  was  convinced  that  it  was  too  late 
for  her  to  draw  back  reaction  set  in;  she  felt  she 
had  been  mean,  almost  cruel  in  her  treatment  of 
Tom,  and  owed  him  some  reparation.  If  she 
were  going  to  keep  her  promise  she  must  keep  it 
to  the  letter,  return  to  the  kitchen,  show  some 
graciousness,  play  her  part  gamely  and  pretend  to 
an  interest  in  the  little  house  that  seemed  so  like 
a  cage  to  her,  huddled  away  as  it  was  in  those  in- 
terminable suburbs,  a  cage  to  which  Tom  would 
bring  food  and  drink,  a  cage  over  which  he  alone 
had  power  and  could  close  or  open  the  door  as  he 
pleased. 

A  light  was  burning  in  the  kitchen,  but  there 
was  no  sound  of  movement  or  of  voices  from  it. 
Every  few  minutes  a  sigh,  rather  like  the  wail  of 
a  prowling  cat,  issued  from  the  room ;  occasionally 
it  was  so  faint  the  ear  could  scarcely  catch  it, 
but  once  it  assumed  a  strong  resemblance  to  cer- 
tain high  notes  in  Molly's  voice.  Kate,  having 
listened  attentively  for  a  few  minutes,  on  perceiv- 
ing this  resemblance  hesitated  no  longer  and 
marched  into  the  kitchen. 

Since  the  first  large  tear-drops  had  detached 
themselves  from  the  eyelids  numerous  others  had 
followed  —  soaking  thoroughly  the  corner  of  a 
soiled  apron.  A  pair  of  red  eyes,  towsled  hair 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  281 

and  a  miserable  face  met  Kate's  gaze  and  caused 
her  to  exclaim: 

'  So  you're  as  bad  as  myself,  only  you're  show- 
ing it  more.  Believe  me,  Molly,  no  man  living 
is  worth  a  pair  of  red  eyes." 

'Tisn't  a  man  exactly,  'tis  —  'tis  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  I  know  all  about  it." 

"  Indeed  you  don't." 

"  Ah,  get  on.  Any  one  who  looked  at  your 
face  could  see  what's  occurred." 

Molly  lifted  her  head  and  gave  a  moan  of 
distress,  sobbing  out,  "  I  didn't  mean  it,  I  did  my 
best,  but  I  can't  help  it." 

Kate  went  over  to  her  and  patted  her  shoulder, 
saying  gently,  "  I'm  grieving  for  you,  Molly;  I 
know  it's  very  hard.  'Tis  the  same  as  myself  you 
are.  You're  engaged  to  Augustus,  and  you  feel 
you've  got  to  keep  your  word  and  go  through 
with  it  though  he  is  a  jail-bird,  though  you'd  sooner 
die  than  marry  him." 

"  Indeed  I  wish  I  was  getting  married  to  him," 
lamented  Molly;  "  I'd  marry  any  man  that'd  give 
me  a  little  home.  Mad  I  am  to  have  something 
of  my  own  about  me.  Oh,  if  even  Augustus  was 
mine  I'd  be  happy." 

"  Yerra,  tell  that  to  the  crows,"  jeered  Kate. 
"  I  don't  believe  the  shabbiest,  craziest  girl  in 
Dublin  would  pick  up  with  that  mean  little 
creature,  that  jail-bird,  that — " 

"  Stop !  "  Molly  held  up  her  hand,  and  her  eyes 
were  bright  with  annoyance  as  she  continued. 
"  You've  spoiled  every  chance  I  ever  had  of  get- 
ting married,  Kate,  and  you  know  it.  First  Tom 


282  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

came  along  and  gave  me  this  brooch,  and  .  .  . 
and  .  .  .  great  friends  we  were  till  you  stole  him 
off  me.  Then  you  drove  Augustus  away  and  kept 
all  the  other  men  to  yourself.  Oh,  you  take  every 
one's  share.  Long  ago  I'd  have  been  married  and 
well  married  but  for  your  interference." 

Kate  was  immeasurably  astonished.  It  was 
news  to  her  that  she  had  stood  between  Molly 
and  matrimony,  and  she  had  always  believed  that 
Tom  disliked  the  latter,  that  in  fact  it  was  a  mutual 
dislike,  and  she  had  endeavoured  to  keep  them 
separated.  The  bog  oak  brooch  was  a  startling 
proof  of  her  error,  and  now,  as  she  gaped  foolishly 
at  her  friend,  the  importance  of  this  gift  gradually 
became  plain  to  her. 

"  I'm  going  to  give  this  brooch  back  to  Tom," 
continued  the  other.  "  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid. 
I'm  not  a  grabber  like  some  I  could  name." 

Kate  hastened  to  speak  soothing  words,  assuring 
Molly  that  she  was  far  too  handsome  a  girl  to 
throw  herself  away  on  Augustus,  and  quoting 
flattering  expressions  of  esteem  used  by  Tom  in 
speaking  of  her,  expressions  that  Kate's  imagina- 
tion coloured  considerably.  But  it  was  quite  true 
that  he  had  used  a  certain  number  of  them,  as  his 
method  of  courtship  was  an  indirect  one,  a  method 
which  is,  however,  occasionally  practised  by  ex- 
perienced individuals  like  policemen  and  other 
knowledgeable  persons.  He  had  wooed  the  latter 
by  paying  compliments  to  her  friend,  and  Kate, 
who  was  learned  in  all  the  psychological  aspects 
of  man,  had  seen  through  this  game  at  the  time  and 
was  much  amused  by  it,  holding,  perhaps  rightly, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  283 

that  it  was  not  in  that  particular  form  a  very  ef- 
fective method  of  procedure.  She  did  not  there- 
fore cast  it  aside;  on  the  contrary,  she  determined 
to  make  use  of  it,  but  in  a  decidedly  different  and 
more  formidable  manner. 

Molly  naturally  began  to  praise  1316  on  learn- 
ing of  his  praise  of  her,  and  three  evenings  later 
when  he  called  again  Kate  very  delicately  conveyed 
these  admiring  remarks  to  him,  and  in  this  case 
also  her  tongue  ran  away  with  her  a  little.  In- 
deed, for  over  an  hour  she  expatiated  on  the 
beauties  of  Tom's  mind  and  person  as  detailed  by 
Molly,  bringing  these  flattering  statements  to  an 
effective  close  by  marvelling  at  her  friend's  blind- 
ness to  the  numerous  imperfections  of  soul  and 
body  from  which  Tom  suffered,  and  which  were 
apparent  to  any  fool  with  an  eye  in  his  head. 

Naturally,  as  a  sergeant  of  the  D.M.P.,  and  as 
one  who  was  held  in  high  honour  by  his  colleagues, 
1316  was  greatly  piqued  by  this  conversation,  and 
very  justly  resented  Kate's  candour.  For  the 
basis  of  love,  for  the  average  man  and  woman, 
is  vanity,  and  love-making  is  to  a  certain  extent  a 
practice  instituted  by  nature  for  the  cultivation  of 
self-esteem  —  a  highly  valuable  quality  essential 
to  human  progress  —  and  for  the  discovery  within 
ourselves,  through  the  agency  of  another  person, 
of  a  divinity  not  possessed,  in  the  remotest  particle, 
in  our  fatuous  belief  by  ordinary  mortals. 

Tom  was  both  hurt  and  pleased  at  the  remarks 
of  his  prospective  bride,  and  his  feelings  being  of 
such  a  mixed  nature  he  took  his  departure  without 
having  achieved  the  object  of  his  visit,  without 


284  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

having  laid  an  important  proposal  before  Kate. 
He  was  anxious  to  arrange  that  she  should  accom- 
pany him  to  Ranelagh  one  afternoon,  and  having 
inspected  Windsor,  Buckingham  Palace  and  Bal- 
moral, assist  him  in  deciding  which  of  these  little 
houses  would  be  best  suited  to  their  requirements. 

This  problem  was  so  much  on  his  mind  he 
called  the  next  night  again  and  found  Molly  alone 
in  the  kitchen.  They  fell  into  agreeable  conversa- 
tion at  once,  discussing  with  much  zest  the  theme 
nearest  their  hearts. 

Molly  informed  Tom  that  she  had  always  been 
interested  in  houses,  and  that  it  was  her  habit  to 
look  at  them  as  she  passed  along  the  street  and 
wonder  how  they  were  furnished  and  decorated 
within.  She  was  fond  of  contrasts.  In  Lower 
Leeson  Street,  for  example,  there  were  some  drab 
brown  and  grey  mansions  of  a  most  uninteresting 
appearance,  but  side  by  side  with  them  was  quite  a 
remarkable  specimen  of  architecture  of  a  pale 
green  colour,  and  next  it  was  a  brilliant  red  brick 
building  just  like  a  doll's  house  in  appearance. 
Molly  was  fond  of  promenading  up  and  down  out- 
side it  and  liked  to  gaze  at  it  with  a  thoughtful  eye, 
picturing  its  interior  to  herself,  and  planning  out 
for  it  an  effective  scheme  of  wall  papers  and 
furniture. 

Curiously  enough,  1316  took  the  same  delight 
in  the  study  of  houses  of  various  kinds,  and  having 
something  of  the  spirit  of  a  collector  always 
marked  down  mansions  of  a  striking  appearance 
that  he  came  across  in  his  beat.  He  was  at  some 
pains  to  impart  his  impressions  of  them  to  Molly, 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  285 

and  asked  her  to  go  out  with  him  one  afternoon 
and  contemplate  in  his  company  some  remarkable 
buildings  on  the  north  side  of  the  city. 

The  invitation  had  only  just  been  made  and 
accepted  when  Kate  appeared,  and  Tom,  recollect- 
ing the  real  object  of  his  visit,  asked  her  at  once, 
with  some  embarrassment,  when  she  would  come 
out  with  him  to  Ranelagh  and  choose  a  home. 

Disease  may  be  sometimes  developed  by  mere 
mental  suggestion,  and  perhaps  the  ailment,  which 
Kate  proceeded  to  complain  of,  was  caused  by  too 
much  study  of  "  Chats  with  the  Doctor,"  that 
notable  page  in  Erin's  Own.  Anyway,  she  in- 
formed 1316  that  she  could  not  stir  out  of  the 
house  because  she  was  suffering  from  inflammation 
of  the  great  toe  and  did  not  know  when  she  would 
be  free  from  it.  However,  as  the  matter  in  ques- 
tion was  rather  urgent,  perhaps  Molly  would  not 
mind  going  out  with  him  and  selecting  the  little 
home. 

Molly  agreed  to  perform  this  service  for  the 
two  of  them  because  of  her  devotion  to  Kate,  after 
some  simpering  and  some  protest  in  regard  to  her 
own  feebleness  of  mind  and  inability  to  perceive 
what  was  good  or  bad  in  the  arrangements  of  a 
house,  and  after  she  had  elicited  by  this  method 
many  gallant  compliments  from  Tom. 

Accordingly,  one  fine  Sunday  afternoon  they 
set  out  for  Ranelagh,  and  spent  two  happy  hours 
in  a  rather  dirty  suburban  street,  which  was  in 
both  their  opinions  a  paradise  of  gentility.  The 
problem  of  selection  being  a  difficult  one,  dusk  had 
fallen  before  they  could  come  to  a  decision.  Each 


286  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

of  the  three  residences  inspected  by  them  consisted 
of  four  rooms ;  each,  however,  had  certain  advan- 
tages the  other  did  not  possess.  Attached  to 
Buckingham  Palace  was  the  largest  strip  of  land, 
but  Windsor  was  supplied  with  an  apparatus  for 
heating  water,  and  therefore  cleansing  operations 
would  be  considerably  facilitated  in  such  a 
house.  On  the  other  hand,  Balmoral  rejoiced 
in  a  bow  window,  which  was  very  choice  in  Molly's 
opinion  and  would  give  distinction  to  any  parlour. 

When  the  time  for  decision  came  Tom  very 
gallantly  left  it  in  her  hands,  and  without  any 
hesitation  she  voted  for  the  bow  window  and 
Balmoral.  He  acclaimed  the  excellence  of  her 
taste,  and  she  the  breadth  of  his  views  in  domestic 
matters,  and  they  returned  home  very  pleased  with 
themselves. 

They  reported  the  result  of  their  deliberations 
to  Kate,  who  expressed  herself  satisfied,  but  asked 
them  to  go  out  on  the  following  Sunday  and 
measure  the  width  of  the  kitchen  and  the  parlour. 
Molly  was  quite  ready  to  oblige,  and  they  spent 
another  very  happy  afternoon  in  Balmoral.  Go- 
ing home  in  the  tram  he  told  her  how  grateful 
he  was  for  the  trouble  she  had  taken,  and  then, 
suddenly  changing  the  subject,  remarked  sadly, 
"  Kate  tells  me  you're  a  wonderful  cook,  that 
there's  not  one  in  Dublin  to  touch  you,  that  you're 
far  better  than  herself." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Molly  modestly 
replied. 

"  Far  better  than  herself,"  insisted  Tom,  and 
muttering  "  a  wonderful  cook  "  relapsed  into  si- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  287 

lence.  It  lasted  only  a  minute  or  so,  then,  perhaps 
impelled  by  his  theme,  the  perfect  cook,  he  began 
again,  looking  at  his  companion  with  moist  eyes : 

"  Oh,  Molly,  if  only  things  were  some  way  dif- 
ferent. If  I  could  spend  not  one  afternoon  but 
every  afternoon  with  you.  If  we  could  ever  and 
always  be  together  —  if  — " 

"  Ah,  whist,  Tom,  whist.  'Tisn't  right,  'tisn't 
fair,  because  —  seemly  I'm  that  way  of  thinking 
myself." 

13 1 B  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  demonstrate 
his  fervent  feelings  by  catching  hold  of  her  arm 
or  waist.  Unfortunately  this  action  could  not  be 
carried  into  effect  because  of  the  presence  of  a 
young  ragamuffin,  who  climbed  into  the  empty 
tram  at  this  moment,  and  sitting  down  opposite  the 
couple,  and  keeping  his  eye  fixed  on  them,  whistled 
pensively,  "  Take  me  back  to  your  Garden  of 
Love." 

Molly,  nobly  reminding  1316  of  his  duty  to 
Kate,  begged  him  in  a  whisper  not  to  upset  her 
by  talking  in  that  disturbing  way;  and  before  she 
reached  Hatch  Street  she  managed  to  obtain  a 
promise  from  him  to  the  effect  that  he  would  not 
torment  her  ever  again  with  expressions  of  an 
affectionate  nature;  she  could  not  bear  them,  pre- 
ferring, as  she  assured  him  in  the  phrase  of  a 
novelette  she  had  just  read,  to  let  "  her  wounded 
heart  bleed  in  silence,  drop  by  drop." 

The  imagination  of  1316  was  fired  by  the 
lamentable  and  sanguinary  picture  thus  evoked, 
and  by  the  nobility  of  soul  that  suffered  this 
amazing  drainage  so  quietly  and  so  unpretenti- 


288  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

ously,  making  no  merit  of  it.  All  doubt  was  set 
at  rest.  Molly  was  a  beautiful  soul,  a  fitting  wife 
for  any  anxious,  careworn  administrator  of  the  law. 
Her  self-sacrifice,  her  purity  of  mind  and  her  ex- 
traordinary powers  as  a  cook  were  a  subject  for 
blissful  musing;  and  for  hours  together  1316, 
when  on  his  beat  in  the  wet,  muddy  streets,  rap- 
turously pictured  to  himself  such  a  woman  as  mis- 
tress of  his  home.  There  were,  of  course,  bad 
times  during  those  lonely  hours  when  he  hated 
Kate,  and  once  or  twice  was  seized  with  an  un- 
natural desire  to  seek  her  out,  catch  her  by  the 
throat  and  beat  her  head  against  the  floor.  Yet 
his  feelings  were  quite  pleasant  when  he  was 
actually  with  her,  because  she  talked  continually 
of  Molly  and  her  charms  and  qualifications  as  a 
wife,  and  discussion  of  their  own  engagement  and 
their  own  future  was  tacitly  permitted  to  lapse. 
They  did  not  see  each  other  so  very  often,  as  for 
many  weeks  Kate,  though  quite  active  in  the  house, 
did  not  stir  abroad,  because  inflammation  of  the 
great  toe  still  persisted.  In  consequence,  Molly 
was  able  to  go  out  more  frequently,  and  took  ad- 
vantage of  every  opportunity  that  presented  itself 
for  increasing  her  intimacy  with  Tom.  She  was 
no  longer  afraid  of  him:  she  was  only  afraid  of 
herself,  his  simple  domestic  soul  stirring  up  wild 
yearnings  in  her  of  a  vague  unaccountable  nature 
that  puzzled  and  at  times  distressed  her.  When 
he  was  on  duty  and  she  was  free  she  would  often 
spend  her  time  observing  him  from  the  shadow 
of  a  doorway  or  the  corner  of  a  street.  It  was 
very  pleasant  to  observe  and  to  be  unseen,  and  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  289 

inspection  was  carried  out  under  a  kind  of  mathe- 
matical system  whereby  the  great  man  was  sur- 
veyed from  every  angle  in  the  course  of  an  hour, 
and  so  successfully  he  never  once  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  watcher. 

Quite  suddenly  Kate  recovered  from  her  ail- 
ment and  announced  that  she  would  go  out  the 
following  Sunday  afternoon  and  test  her  tender 
feet.  Molly  had  planned  to  spend  an  hour  or  two 
at  Balmoral  in  company  with  Tom  on  that  particu- 
lar day  and  was  a  little  disappointed.  However, 
in  place  of  this  expedition  she  invited  him  to  spend 
the  afternoon  with  her  in  the  kitchen. 

He  was  to  come  late  so  that  he  need  not  meet 
Kate,  whom  he  now  avoided  on  every  possible 
occasion.  Unfortunately  she  was  slow  to  start, 
and  loitered  about  the  kitchen,  though  dressed  in 
her  outdoor  things,  playing  in  a  maddening  way 
with  her  sewing  machine.  It  was  no  use  suggest- 
ing that  she  was  losing  the  fine  spring  sunshine 
and  all  the  best  of  the  day,  she  could  not  be  per- 
suaded to  stir,  and  even  relinquished  her  ostenta- 
tious play  with  the  machine,  and  sat  there  idly 
drumming  with  her  fingers  on  the  table,  and  staring 
up  through  the  window  at  the  area  railings. 

When  1316  did  eventually  put  in  an  appearance 
she  rose  and  greeted  him  in  a  friendly  way,  telling 
him  she  was  going  out  at  once  and  was  very  sorry 
to  miss  him.  Both  he  and  Molly  looked  relieved; 
the  frown  that  was  gathering  on  his  forehead 
vanished,  and  he  wished  her  a  pleasant  outing. 

They  were  not  so  easily  rid  of  her,  however. 
With  her  fingers  on  the  door  handle,  she  paused 


290  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

and  turned  round,  so  that  she  could  see  their  faces 
quite  clearly  while  she  herself  remained  in  the 
shadow. 

"  Well,  Tom,  what  day  will  you  get  married? 
'Tis  time  we  fixed  it  up,"  she  said  quite  casually, 
as  if  she  were  making  a  remark  about  the  weather. 

Molly  exclaimed,  "  Oh  —  oh,"  and  two  little 
spots  of  tomato-red  suddenly  blushed  upon  her 
cheeks.  1316  hung  his  head,  tore  at  his  mous- 
tache, coughed  and  spat  tremulously,  spat  quite 
without  the  swift  decision,  which  in  his  case,  usu- 
ally characterised  this  particular  act. 

"  Kate  —  Kate,"  he  began  in  a  supplicating 
voice,  "  I'm  bothered  —  I  —  don't  know.  .  .  . 
I've  been  meaning  to  tell  you  —  I  —  I'm  not  the 
man  you  think  me.  I'm  a  deceiver.  .  .  .  I've  lost 
money  at  betting."  The  last  words  came  out  with 
a  gasp. 

"  Oh,  what  girl  would  mind  being  poor  and 
she  winning  you  for  her  own,"  returned  Kate. 
"  Well,  anyway,  think  it  over.  I'll  be  gone  a 
half  hour.  You  can  tell  me  the  date  when  I  come 
back;  the  sooner  it  is  the  better." 

"The  sooner  it  is  the  better,"  groaned  1316, 
as  Kate  disappeared  from  view.  "  Oh,  my  God, 
Molly,  what  will  I  do  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  I  don't 
want  to  marry  her.  I  can't  go  through  with  it, 
and  I  can't  throw  her  over  when  I'm  promised  to 
her.  And  she's  that  trustful!  She  believes  in 
every  bit  of  me." 

"  I  wonder  is  that  so,"  mused  Molly.  "  I'm 
sure  she  doesn't." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  291 

"  Indeed  she  does.  I  wouldn't  have  her 
think  me  two-faced  for  anything.  And  it's  all  a 
lie  about  the  betting,"  he  continued  hysterically. 
"  I've  been  saving  money,  not  losing  it.  And  it's 
for  you  I  saved  it.  I  want  to  marry  you  so  bad. 
And  I  will  marry  you.  I  don't  care  what  occurs. 
I  will  —  I  will." 

'  You  will?  Oh,  Tom,  'twould  be  lovely; 
we'd  be  so  happy,  you  and  I  living  together  in 
Balmoral  .  .  .  myself  and  yourself  with  a  little 
house  of  our  own  .  .  .  ever  and  always  together. 
.  .  ."  As  she  let  her  head  slide  into  a  com- 
fortable position  just  above  his  heart,  and  as  she 
felt  his  hairy  face  brushing  against  her  own,  the 
area  door  softly  whined,  and  as  his  arms  went 
round  her,  and  as  she  again  contentedly  mur- 
mured, "  Ever  and  always  together,"  Kate  walked 
into  the  room. 

They  leaped  apart,  and  1316,  having  succeeded 
in  placing  the  table  between  himself  and  the  two 
ladies,  proceeded  to  stand  first  on  one  leg  and 
then  on  the  other.  A  cough  and  a  spit  could  not 
cover  up  his  confusion  now;  he  gave  utterance  to 
various  quavering  sounds  quite  without  coherence 
or  form,  and  rolled  his  head  from  side  to  side  in 
company  with  queer  contortions  of  his  body,  for 
he  wriggled  like  an  expiring  fish  and  glared  so 
horribly  at  Kate  she  begged  him  to  look  the  other 
way  and  quiet  himself.  He  obediently  turned  his 
face  to  the  wall,  and  once  relieved  of  the  sight  of 
Kate  recovered  some  of  his  courage,  and  in  a  little 
while  was  able  to  address  her. 


292  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  betray  you,  Kate,"  he  began. 
"  You  don't  understand  what  occurred.  Molly 
knocked  her  head  against  mine.  Oh,  a  fine  crack 
she  gave  herself  all  by  mistake.  And  I  was  trying 
to  find  the  wound  and  see  was  she  bleeding.  Her 
hair  got  in  the  light  and  someway  I  forgot.  I 
thought  'twas  you,  not  Molly,  and  I  —  I  — " 

"  Now  come  here  the  two  of  ye  and  do  it 
again." 

"  Do  what  again?" 

"  Oh,  all  that  hugger-mugger.  'Twill  ease  your 
brain." 

"  I  couldn't.  Why,  I'm  promised  to  you, 
Kate."  1316  drew  himself  up  proudly  and  con- 
tinued: "  I'd  go  through  Hell  before  I'd  break 
my  solemn  promise." 

'  You  needn't  trouble  to  do  that,"  she  returned 
coolly.  "  Oh,  Tom  Casey,  aren't  you  the  foolish 
man?  Wasn't  it  the  date  of  your  wedding  with 
Molly  I  was  striving  to  fix?  But  maybe  you  want 
to  settle  it  up  between  yourselves.  So  I'll  cut  my 
sticks  out  of  this." 

A  few  minutes  later  Kate  hurried  down  Hatch 
Street  and  Pembroke  Street  and  then  along  the 
south  side  of  the  square.  She  was  flying  from 
Tom's  panegyrics  of  herself.  He  had  been  much 
touched  by  the  noble  nature  of  a  woman  who 
could  deliberately,  without  any  complaining,  relin- 
quish all  claim  on  himself  and  Balmoral.  It  was 
inconceivable  that  any  woman  could  bring  herself 
to  throw  away  such  choice  gifts  from  Heaven. 
He  showed  admirable  self-control,  however,  for- 
bearing to  make  any  statement  to  this  effect  and 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  293 

outwardly  was  humble  enough  in  his  gratitude  for 
his  release,  assuring  Kate  that  she  was  far  too 
fine  a  girl  for  him. 

The  latter,  having  suggested  that  this  remark 
cast  a. reflection  on  his  future  bride,  retired  from 
the  kitchen,  fearing  perhaps  that  further  unwise 
or  foolish  statements  might  be  made  that  would  be 
regretted  afterwards. 

She  was  pleased  at  her  success,  and  yet  she 
was  not  happy.  A  stupid  discontent  that  had 
annoyed  and  perplexed  her  for  some  time  past 
tormented  her  again  now  that  she  was  alone.  She 
was  dissatisfied  and  afraid  to  give  her  thoughts 
free  play.  If  only  she  could  reach  the  fields,  if 
she  could  get  away  from  men,  women  and  houses, 
the  fresh  sweetness  of  the  day  might  soothe  her 
and  bring  back  the  old  content.  She  walked  along 
beside  the  canal,  passing  rows  of  red  and  brown 
brick  houses,  passing  under  bridge  after  bridge, 
taking  little  heed  of  the  couples  that  strolled  by 
her,  and  not  even  stopping  to  gaze  at  a  cluster  of 
Salvation  Army  enthusiasts  grouped  about  a  har- 
monium, singing  hymns  to  a  sprinkling  of  raga- 
muffins on  the  opposite  bank.  At  another  time 
she  would  have  paused  to  stare  at  this  rare  spec- 
tacle, paused  to  wonder  at  their  musical  efforts, 
and  to  wish  that  they  would  use  a  concertina  in- 
stead of  that  hoarse  harmonium;  it  would  make 
the  noise,  in  her  opinion,  so  much  more  cheerful. 

The  canal  waters  were  still  and  greasy,  and  a 
faint  odour  occasionally  arose  from  those  places 
where  the  remains  of  a  drowned  dog  brushed 
against  the  grassy  bank.  But  in  a  little  while  she 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

began  to  leave  the  houses  and  the  people  behind 
her,  and  the  waters  became  fresh  and  limpid,  free 
from  garbage,  with  a  gentle  current  running 
through  them.  Evening  was  coming  on;  there 
were  gold  lights  in  the  sky,  a  rim  of  mist  edged 
the  horizon,  and  the  noise  of  the  city  she  was 
leaving  behind  her  died  into  a  low  murmur. 

On  the  left  hand  were  some  close-cropped  fields 
and  groups  of  leafless  trees,  and  beyond  them,  far 
away,  high,  purple  mountains.  The  feeling  of 
dissatisfaction  growing  more  acute,  she  turned 
from  the  mountains  and  slipped  down  a  deep  bank 
which  bordered  the  canal  at  this  point.  A  bush  of 
hawthorn  growing  at  the  end  of  a  small  garden 
and  overhanging  the  stream  on  the  opposite  side, 
caught  her  eye.  It  was  the  first  she  had  seen  in 
flower,  and  the  fragrance  of  the  white  blossom 
floated  across  the  waters  to  her.  A  bird  was  sing- 
ing in  the  branches.  She  leant  against  a  bank 
gazing  dreamily  at  it,  the  song  mingling  with  her 
thoughts  in  a  curious  way. 

It  was  an  invitation  to  be  happy,  and  how  could 
she  be  happy  living  in  this  big,  drab  town  with 
its  little  oasis  of  green  —  budding  trees  in  back 
gardens,  smooth  lawns,  bushes  of  lilac  and  labur- 
num that  would  soon  break  into  flower  in  the 
squares,  and  would  torment  her  with  their  joy,  and 
prevent  her  from  forgetting  that  beyond  the  chim- 
ney-pots and  squalid  streets  there  were  miles  of 
open  country  —  wild  hills  and  woods,  grass  fields 
and  acres  of  corn  land  stretching  away  and  away  to 
the  edge  of  the  sea.  But  even  if  it  were  possible 
to  forget  it  was  unlikely  that  the  old  content  would 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  295 

come  back.  Nearly  every  day  when  she  was  out 
shopping,  shabby  people,  with  thin,  drawn  faces, 
passed  her  in  the  street,  and  the  hungry  look  in 
their  eyes  troubled  her,  causing  her  to  feel  that  by 
rights  she  should  be  in  her  own  place  assisting 
Denis  in  his  work.  Food  was  dearer  than  ever; 
young  and  old  needed  bread.  She  was  strong  and 
healthy.  For  the  sake  of  these  poor  people  she 
should  take  up  her  share  of  labour  in  the  earth. 
Denis  was  going  to  be  married  in  three  weeks' 
time.  He  would  not  require  a  woman  in  the 
house.  Still,  he  could  give  her  work  on  the  farm. 
She  had  refused  to  go  to  the  wedding,  she  would 
write  and  tell  him  she  had  changed  her  mind. 

A  few  strollers  passed  along  the  road  that  ran 
above  where  Kate  was  resting,  but  she  remained 
undisturbed  in  the  hollow.  And  her  thoughts 
were  busy  with  the  old  problem.  Would  the 
memory  of  Michael  and  of  Steve  press  in  upon 
her  and  destroy  her  peace  if  she  lived  on  at  Drou- 
mavalla  ?  Some  time  or  other  she  would  have  to 
face  Eugene  also.  She  could  not  tell  how  she 
would  feel  or  how  she  would  act  until  she  was 
back  in  her  home.  The  craving  for  the  land  was 
so  strong  in  her  now  that  she  felt  she  could  face 
any  pain  rather  than  the  weary  distress  she  must 
inevitably  suffer  if  she  continued  to  live  on  in  the 
city.  It  would  be  better  to  return,  better  to  spend 
a  little  time,  at  any  rate,  in  Droumavalla  until  her 
hunger  for  the  fields  and  the  open  spaces  was,  in 
a  measure,  satisfied  again. 

She  rose  and  began  to  retrace  her  steps.     It 
was  very  late.     The  lights  had  gone  out  of  the 


296  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

sky;  in  their  place  was  a  wash  of  pale  primrose; 
the  bird  had  ceased  singing,  and  the  long  shadows 
of  the  trees  fell  across  the  waters.  A  tremulous 
web  of  blue  vapour  had  crept  down  from 
Kilmashogue  mountain  veiling  the  fields;  there 
was  not  a  breath  of  wind,  nothing  to  disturb  the 
serenity  of  the  spring  evening,  and  at  last  Kate 
felt  at  one  with  the  peace  and  quiet  around  her. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

ONE  cold,  wet  morning  Kate  started  on  her  long 
journey  south.     The  carriage,  in  which  she  was 
sitting,  was  crowded;  but  people  got  out  at  various 
small  stations  and  their  places  were  not  filled  again. 
Soon  there  were  only  three  other  occupants  of  the 
compartment  beside  herself.     One  of  them  was  a 
thin,  pale-faced  man,  who  sat  huddled  in  a  corner, 
wrapped  in  a  shabby  greatcoat.     He  gazed  out  of 
the  window,  apparently  absorbed  by  the  passing 
landscape,  and  disinclined  for  conversation.     The 
two   other  travellers,   who  were  studying  news- 
papers,   were    more    prosperous    in    appearance. 
Kate  believed  them  to  be  father  and  daughter,  for 
the  woman  resembled  the  elderly  man  in  features 
and  the  last  initial  on  her  bag*  corresponded  with 
the  one  on  his  suit-case.     On  the  other  hand,  he 
was  florid  in  complexion  and  inclined  to  be  stout, 
whereas  she  was  thin  and  colourless  with  promi- 
nent teeth  like  the  keyboard  of  a  piano.     They 
evidently  did  not  intend  to  be  sociable  and  help  to 
make  the  time  pass  with  conversation,  so  Kate, 
as  was  her  custom  with  strangers,  proceeded  to 
imagine  their  history  and  to  christen  them  accord- 
ing to  the  impression  they  made  on  her  and  in 
conjunction  with  the  initial  -on  their  boxes.     They 
were  Mr.  and  Miss  Jenkins  and  they  came  from 
Wales.     The  white-faced  man  in  the  corner  was 

297 


298  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

( 

certainly  a  southerner.  She  had  caught  the  lilt  of 
his  voice  as  he  bade  some  one  good-bye  at  Kings- 
bridge.  And  surely  his  name  was  Murphy,  that 
commonest  of  all  Cork  names.  He  looked  like  a 
seedy  draper's  assistant,  and  the  other  man  was 
probably  a  merchant,  his  rather  purple  complexion 
suggesting  that  he  traded  in  salt  meat,  and  his  gold 
watch  chain  that  he  had  made  a  little  fortune. 
Soon  tired  of  speculation,  Kate  turned  from  them 
to  the  window  and  gazed  out  at  the  drifting  rain 
and  the  boggy  plains  through  which  they  were 
passing.  She  summoned  to  her  mind's  eye  the 
gorse-covered  hills,  the  rich  corn  land,  the  deep 
winding  valleys  and  rivers  of  County  Cork,  com- 
paring them  very  favourably  with  the  country 
that,  without  break,  without  undulation,  stretched 
away  for  miles  and  miles  on  either  hand. 

At  length  the  silence  in  the  carriage  was  broken 
by  Mr.  Jenkins  reading  to  his  daughter  a  para- 
graph from  the  newspaper.  His  voice  was  loud 
and  his  manner  of  speech  rhetorical;  the  words 
trickled  out  slowly  and  pompously,  and  Kate 
caught  the  drift  of  them  perfectly  in  spite  of  the 
roar  of  the  train. 

"  Ireland  has  refused  to  do  her  duty  in  the 
War,"  he  read.  "  She  has  lost  the  respect  and 
good-will  of  the  allied  countries,  and  that  loss  will 
react  against  her  interests  in  all  the  affairs  of  life. 
.  .  .  The  British  democracy  will  reject  her  claims 
with  sullen  s-corn.  She  has  lost  America's  friend- 
ship. Her  emigrants  will  find  the  doors  of  the 
whole  English-speaking  world  banged  against 
them.  Her  trade  will  suffer  in  every  English  mar- 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  299 

ket.  The  punishment  she  deserves  will  be  meted 
out  to  her.  England  will  say,  and  rightly,  prefer- 
ence must  be  given  to  our  friends,  not  to  our  en- 
emies, and  Ireland  has  ranged  herself  definitely  on 
their  side."  Mr.  Jenkins  paused,  and,  a  note  of 
pleasant  anticipation  creeping  into  his  voice,  re- 
marked with  a  comfortable  snort,  "  These  Irish 
fellows  are  dirty  cowards.  There'll  be  a  heavy 
hand  on  them  after  the  War.  Oh,  won't  we  just 
make  them  pay  through  the  nose.  Listen  to  this, 
Daisy."  He  read  another  paragraph,  almost 
shouting  the  last  two  sentences,  and  eyeing  the 
little  man  in  the  corner  significantly,  as  if  he  in- 
tended them  to  be  for  his  especial  benefit. 

"  Ireland  stinks  in  the  nostrils  of  the  nations. 
In  future  the  son  of  an  Irishman  will  mean  the  son 
of  a  coward." 

'  That's  a  lie-,"  Kate  spoke  so  fiercely  Mr. 
Jenkins  shrank  back  in  his  seat,  staring  up  at  her 
over  his  glasses  with  solemn  alarm.  She  had 
leaped  to  her  feet,  and  stood  in  front  of  him 
trembling  and  swaying  a  little  to  the  vibrations  of 
the  train. 

"  Hundreds  of  Irishmen  have  been  killed  and 
crippled  in  the  War,"  she  cried;  "  and  you're 
going  to  punish  their  wives  and  their  children, 
their  old  fathers  and  mothers.  Ah,  'tis  easy  to 
hurt  the  dead;  there's  no  one  to  defend  them. 
And  when  you  punish  the  Irish  you  punish  the 
men  that  are  after  dying  for  you.  What  right 
have  you  to  call  the  fine  boys  that  are  gone 
cowards  and  their  children  the  sons  of  cowards. 
.  .  .  Because  that's  what  you're  doing.  .  .  . 


300  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Haven't  we  our  losses  as  well  as  you  have  your 
own?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,"  Mr.  Jenkins  cut 
in  curtly,  "  you  Irish  have  lost  nothing  to  speak 
of  —  you've  made  money." 

"  That's  a  lie.  My  best  friends  have  been 
killed  on  the  sea  and  in  the  battle  —  Joe  Canty, 
the  Moriartys,  the  O'Briens,  the  Roches,  Michael 
Turpin  —  and  —  and  Steve  was  no  coward." 
Her  voice  broke  into  a  sob,  and  leaning  forward 
she  snatched  the  newspaper  from  the  old  man's 
hand  and  tore  it  into  little  bits,  then  sinking  back 
into  the  corner  turned  away  and  pressed  her  face 
against  the  glass  so  that  he  could  not  see  her 
tears. 

They  spoke  to  each  other  in  low  tones.  She 
was  not  able  to  hear  what  they  said,  but  they  did 
not  molest  her,  and  gradually  her  trembling 
ceased;  she  became  calm  again. 

The  train  began  to  slow  up,  stopping  beyond 
Limerick  Junction  for  a  few  minutes,  then  it  was 
shunted  into  the  station.  The  strangers  collected 
their  wraps,  the  woman  got  out  of  the  carriage, 
and  the  old  man,  just  as  he  was  leaving  it,  paused. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,"  he  said  awk- 
wardly; "  I  must  apologise  for  disturbing  you  — 
I  — er— " 

She  looked  at  his  proffered  hand  and  shook 
her  head.  With  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he 
descended  on  to  the  platform  and  was  soon  lost 
in  the  crowd. 

Some  people  got  into  the  carriage;  there  was 
the  usual  disturbances  of  new  arrivals,  the  usual 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  301 

stowing  away  of  luggage,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  train  had  steamed  out  of  the  platform  that 
she  realised  that  the  little  white-faced  man  had 
given  up  his  corner  and  was  seated  beside  her. 

"  I  want  to  thank  you,  miss,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "  for  speaking  the  way  you  did  and  for  not 
taking  that  man's  hand." 

"And  why  so?" 

"  Because  he  called  me  a  coward." 

"  Are  you  a  soldier?  "  She  looked  inquiringly 
at  him. 

"  I  was,"  he  replied;  "  I  was  in  France  and  I 
was  in  England  a  small  while,  and  there  was  that 
same  talk.  'The  Irish  are  cowards,'  they  says; 
'  we'll  make  them  pay  for  it.  We'll  punish  them 
sore  for  standing  back  from  the  fighting.'  I  tell 
you  there  were  times  I  was  near  out  of  my  head 
with  rage.  The  Yanks  haven't  lost  half  what 
we've  lost  when  you  take  the  size  of  the  two 
countries;  but  the  Yanks  are  heroes  and  the  Irish 
are  cowards." 

"  I  know,  'tis  very  hard.  Oh,  there  was  one 
Michael  Turpin  that  was  in  France,"  her  voice 
faltered;  "  tell  me,  did  you  meet  him?  " 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  he  replied. 

"  How  long  were  you  out  there?  " 

"A  year  and  a  half;  a  year  and  a  half  that 
was  like  ten  —  always  fighting,  always  except  for 
rests  in  the  trenches.  Indeed,  I  never  thought 
I'd  see  home  again." 

"What  part  are  you  from?  I  can  see  you're 
a  County  Cork  man." 

"  I  am.     I'm  from  Kinsale." 


302  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

She  pressed  him  to  tell  her  more  about  him- 
self, and,  though  he  was  diffident  and  shy,  she 
at  length  prevailed  upon  him  to  tell  his  story. 
He  had  been  greatly  stirred  by  John  Redmond's 
speech  at  the  outbreak  of  war,  and  being  an  ardent 
Nationalist,  and  believing  in  the  pledge  given  by 
the  English,  that  Home  Rule  would  be  granted 
at  the  end  of  the  War,  he  had  joined  the  army 
and  had  served  with  the  Connaught  Rangers, 
one  of  the  regiments  stationed  at  Kinsale.  It  was 
largely  composed  of  County  Cork  men,  friends  of 
his  own,  and,  in  spite  of  almost  incessant  fighting, 
there  had  been  good  times  in  France. 

"  They  were  grand  boys,  all  of  them,"  he  said; 
"  and  I  didn't  know  how  fine  they  were  till  the 
twenty-first  of  March  this  year,  when  our  battalion 
of  the  Rangers  was  wiped  out,  and  they  fighting  to 
save  Paris  and  the  ports.  There  was  one  young 
lad,  a  County  Cork  gentleman,  in  command  of 
my  company.  He  was  only  twenty,  the  youngest 
of  six  brothers  all  out  in  the  War.  He'd  been 
with  us  in  the  thick  of  the  fighting  for  near  two 
years,  and  we  would  have  followed  him  anywhere. 
He  loved  the  men  and  cared  for  them  like  a 
mother.  The  Colonel  wanted  him  to  go  back  to 
Ireland  for  a  rest,  but  he  wouldn't  leave  us.  We 
doated  on  him.  His  face  was  like  an  angel's  and 
he  had  the  heart  of  a  lion  for  courage.  He  was 
the  whitest  man  I  ever  knew.  As  long  as  I  live 
I  can  never  forget  him,  and  I  pray  that  he  may  be 
near  me  in  the  hour  of  death  to  lead  me  beyond. 
Well,  on  the  twenty-first  of  March  he  led  us  out 
again  to  face  the  German  onrush,  and  he  soon 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  303 

fell  killed  at  last.  It  near  broke  my  heart,  and 
the  boys  were  mad  with  grief  for  him.  Others 
followed  him  quick  enough.  We  were  fighting 
rearguard  actions  all  that  week.  The  Rangers 
went  into  the  battle  on  the  twenty-first  a  thousand 
strong,  and  after  seven  days  of  it  there  were  seven 
whole  men  left.  The  Dublins  were  destroyed  too. 
A  great  number  of  Irish  boys  were  lost  that  time. 
But  sure  the  British  are  forgetting  it  already. 
You  heard  what  was  in  that  paper?  " 

He  broke  off,  too  moved  to  speak  further.  In 
a  little  while,  however,  Kate  could  not  resist  ques- 
tioning him  again,  and  she  learnt  that  during  that 
wonderful  retirement  he  had  been  wounded  and 
had  suffered  severely  from  shell  shock.  He  was 
now  invalided  out  of  the  army  and  was  going 
home.  But  the  prospect  of  home  depressed  him 
infinitely. 

"  They're  mad  with  me  for  fighting  for  the 
British,"  he  said.  "  My  father  is  bitter  because 
we've  been  done  out  of  Home  Rule,  and  he  wrote 
and  told  me  there  would  be  no  place  for  me  under 
his  roof.  And  the  English  were  mad  with  me 
because  I'm  an  Irishman.  My  old  friends  in 
Kinsale  will  give  me  the  go-by.  Oh,  it's  all  a 
queer  puzzle.  ...  I  don't  rightly  know  what  will 
become  of  me." 

Kate  perceived  that  her  companion  was  very 
broken  down,  and,  pitying  him,  she  tried  to  re- 
assure and  console  him  with  prophecies  of  the 
welcome  that  was  before  him,  the  welcome  that 
was  due  to  any  brave  man.  And  yet  she  realised 
that  when  old  John  Turpin  was  afraid  to  hang  the 


304  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

photograph  of  his  son  on  the  wall  of  his  house 
the  feeling  against  Irish  soldiers  must  be  strong 
indeed.  She  had  not  time  to  say  much  to  him, 
for  the  train  was  racing  down  the  hill  between 
Mallow  and  the  southern  capital.  Soon  she  saw 
Shandon  steeple  and  the  wide  curve  of  the  valley 
in  which  the  city  lay;  then  with  a  rush  and  a  roar 
they  were  in  the  long  tunnel  which  leads  into  Cork 
station.  After  that,  with  Denis  gesticulating  in 
the  distance  and  struggling  through  the  crowd  on 
the  platform,  she  had  only  time  to  bid  her  com- 
panion traveller  a  hasty  good-bye;  and  so  they 
parted  as  travellers  part,  not  to  meet  again,  but 
each  bearing  with  them  the  memory  of  their  hour 
of  talk,  and  Kate's  mind  branded  by  it,  for  as  she 
listened  to  the  conversation  of  the  soldier  the 
burning  recollection  of  the  quarrel  between 
Michael  and  Steve  impressed  itself  upon  her 
again,  and  with  it  returned  the  conviction  that 
the  two  brothers  who  could  not  pardon  each 
other  could  find  no  share  of  rest  or  peace  in 
the  grave. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  day  following  Kate's  arrival  home  was  a  busy 
and  a  happy  one.  She  heard  about  the  prepara- 
tions for  the  wedding  from  Minnie  Foley,  and 
later  in  the  day  went  over  the  farm  with  Denis, 
and  commented  on  the  many  improvements  he 
had  been  able  to  make,  thanks  to  agricultural 
prosperity,  and  also  because  he  had  been  able  to 
save  money  through  the  agency  of  the  Co-opera- 
tive Society  started  by  Eugene.  The  latter's 
energy,  business  capacity  and  resource,  which  had 
brought  such  an  organisation  into  being,  were 
much  praised  by  him.  He  told  his  sister  that 
though  Eugene  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
politics  he  was  respected  by  all  the  farmers  of 
the  surrounding  district,  who  had  come  to  regard 
him  as  their  leader,  and  by  right  of  intellect  he 
had  become  their  spokesman  and  representative 
in  all  the  business  affairs  connected  with  the  So- 
ciety. 

It  was  near  milking  time,  and  Denis  and  Kate 
strolled  up  the  gorse  field  in  the  direction  of  the 
cow-house.  After  a  short  silence  he  inquired 
shyly,  "  You  had  no  thought,  Kate,  when  you 
were  in  Dublin  of  getting  married?  " 

"  Maybe  I  had,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  have  none 
now." 

"  You're  too  careful.  I  was  like  yourself;  I 
was  afraid  of  it,  and  afraid  of  being  tied  one  time, 

305 


306  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

but  now  I'm  not  a  bit.  Indeed,  I  know  a  woman 
living  over  at  Ballycotton.  She's  eighteen  chil- 
dren, and  she  mfcrried  on  the  grass  of  one  goat. 
As  fine  a  woman  as  you'd  wish  to  see  and  as  happy 
as  a  bee.  So  why  would  you  be  afraid?  " 

"  I'm  tired  of  Ireland,"  she  said  suddenly,  fac- 
ing him;  "  and  as  soon  as  the  War  is  over  and 
I'm  free  to  cross  the  sea  I'll  go  back  to  the  States." 

"  'Twould  be  a  pity,  a  rare  pity,"  he  replied, 
greatly  troubled  by  her  decision  of  manner  and 
voice,  but  he  knew  Kate  better  than  to  argue  with 
her,  and  made  no  further  remark. 

She  had  surprised  herself.  Her  answer  had 
not  come  from  any  preconceived  plan;  it  was  the 
impulse  of  the  moment,  and  yet  it  seemed  the 
natural  conclusion  for  her  to  arrive  at,  and  she 
wondered  she  had  not  thought  of  it  before.  "  It's 
the  land  makes  the  man,"  Eugene  had  said.  It 
made  the  woman  also.  She  had  no  farm  of  her 
own,  so  there  was  no  place  for  her  here;  she  must 
seek  her  bread  elsewhere,  and  take  to  the  winding 
track  again. 

They  had  now  reached  the  top  of  the  hill. 
Some  fine  Kerry  cows  passed  them,  and  Denis,  as 
he  patted  their  sleek  sides,  related  their  histories, 
and  told  her  there  was  no  cow  better  suited  to 
that  part  of  the  country,  and  advised  her  if  she 
ever  had  a  farm  of  her  own  to  stock  it  with  this 
breed. 

"  Wouldn't  you  try  your  hand  at  milking 
them?"  he  suggested  when  they  were  stalled. 
"  I  remember  the  time  you'd  milk  twenty  cows 
before  breakfast  and  not  turn  a  hair." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  307 

She  laughed,  saying,  "  Sure,  my  hands  would 
fall  to  my  sides  lifeless  if  I  milked  four  cows  now." 

;'  Well,  here's  a  pail  anyway.  Put  your  hand 
to  it  and  see  what  you  can  do." 

Her  fingers  were  not  as  stiff  and  feeble  as  she 
expected,  and  she  milked  away  for  nearly  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  without  feeling  fatigued.  A 
soft  ray  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  crept  in 
through  the  half-open  door,  casting  a  yellow  bar 
of  dancing  colour  across  the  animals'  backs.  In 
a  half-musing  state,  with  her  hands  busily  moving 
up  and  down,  she  listened  to  the  spurt  of  the  milk 
and  watched  the  flicking  to  and  fro  of  the  cows' 
tails. 

A  man  entered  the  cow-house  and  stood  in  the 
ray  of  light  near  the  door.  Kate,  suddenly  look- 
ing up  and  perceiving  him,  rose  quickly  from  her 
crouching  position,  exclaiming  "  Eugene !  "  Her 
violent  movement  upset  the  half-filled  pail  of  milk, 
and  a  white  trickle  rolled  along  the  ground  at  her 
feet. 

"  So  you're  back,"  he  said  with  an  embarrassed 
air;  "  I  was  looking  for  Denis.  I've  business 
with  him." 

"  He's  over  in  the  dairy,"  she  replied.  "  Wait 
now,  he  may  not  be  there.  I'd  best  go  and  find 
him." 

Eugene,  who  had  turned  to  leave  the  barn, 
waited  for  her,  and  they  went  out  into  the  fresh 
evening  together.  They  did  not  go  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  dairy,  but  stood  for  a  while  a  few  paces 
from  each  other,  with  faces  averted. 

At  length   Kate  broke  the  distressing  silence 


308  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

with  what  seemed  to  her  a  foolish  remark  as  soon 
as  it  sounded  in  her  ears: 

"  It's  strange  you  can  find  time  to  come  over  at 
this  hour  of  day.  You  can't  have  much  work  on 
the  farm.  But  maybe,  you've  business  to  do  for 
your  new  Society." 

"  I  have  not,"  he  replied.  "  Indeed,  I've  my 
hands  full  at  home,  and  I  could  ill  spare  the  time 
to  come  here." 

"  I  wonder  your  business  with  Denis  couldn't 
have  waited.  You'll  see  him  to-morrow  at  Mass." 

"  It  could  not;  it's  urgent." 

"  Ah,  here's  Denis,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Denis, 
Eugene  has  urgent  business  with  you." 

Denis  came  over  to  them  from  the  yard  gate, 
saying,  "  Business?  Well,  now,  what  urgent  busi- 
ness can  you  have  with  me,  Eugene?  " 

"  I  have  none  at  all,"  he  replied  shortly. 

Both  brother  and  sister  stared  at  him  puzzled, 
and  Kate  noticed  that  as  he  lifted  his  eyes  to  hers 
there  was  a  look  of  authority  in  them  she  had 
never  seen  in  the  old  days. 

"  I'd  best  tell  you  straight  what  I  came  for,"  he 
replied.  "  I  wanted  to  know  if  Kate  would  see 
me  and  have  a  talk." 

"  And  why  didn't  you  ask  me  that  at  once?  " 
she  inquired. 

"  Oh,  maybe  you  wouldn't  have  cared  to  an- 
swer it." 

"  Well,  I'll  answer  it,"  broke  in  Denis. 
"  Eugene,  Kate  wants  to  hear  about  the  new  So- 
ciety. Go  off  with  her  now  and  show  her  the 
shop  and  the  mill." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  809 

"  I've  been  wanting  to  hear  about  the  new  So- 
ciety and  about  yourself,"  she  said,  beckoning  to 
him.  After  a  moment's  hesitation  he  joined  her, 
and  they  set  out  for  the  village  together. 

His  embarrassment  slipped  from  him  as  he  ex- 
plained to  her  the  workings  of  the  Co-operative 
Society,  and  how  each  farmer  had  his  share  and 
stake  in  it;  how  politics  were  strictly  kept  out  of 
it,  and  how  the  good  of  the  whole  was  brought 
about  by  the  work  of  each  individual  member. 
The  shop,  which  he  took  her  over,  interested  her 
and  pleased  her,  and  she  was  greatly  excited  by 
the  plans  he  had  for  its  development  in  various 
departments.  For  he  hoped  that  in  time  it  would 
supply  nearly  all  the  essential  requirements  of  the 
people  at  low  prices. 

As  they  strolled  inland,  away  from  the  village, 
in  the  direction  of  the  mill,  he  told  her  the  tale  of 
his  struggle  with  the  ignorance  and  the  prejudices 
of  the  people,  and  the  bitter  opposition  of  trades- 
men and  politicians  when  he  first  attempted  to  start 
the  Society,  and  she  listened  to  him  gladly  as  he 
talked,  noting  with  pride  the  improvements  in  his 
appearance  —  his  handsome  face,  his  confident  air 
and  the  fact  that  he  limped  less  than  formerly. 

"I  went  to  see  a  doctor  in  Cork,"  he  said; 
"  he's  a  clever  chap,  not  like  an  old  cob  of  a  coun- 
try doctor  who  has  never  seen  civilisation.  He's 
given  me  great  ease,  and  he  says  he'll  have  my 
leg  cured  in  four  or  five  months,  and  then  I'll  be 
as  game  as  paint." 

The  mill  was  in  a  valley,  surrounded  by  trees, 
with  a  little  river  flowing  by  it.  The  building  was 


310  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

an  old  one  that  had  been  patched  up  and  had  had 
new  machinery  installed  in  it.  They  lingered  on 
a  bridge  that  led  up  to  its  gate,  leaning  over  the 
rail  and  gazing  down  at  the  shallow  current  of 
water  playing  over  the  stones  beneath  them.  As 
dusk  came  on  they  began  to  talk  of  old  times, 
Kate  pointing  out  chestnut  trees  which  Steve  and 
Michael  used  to  climb  and  strip  bare  of  their  fruit 
in  the  autumn,  and  reminding  Eugene  of  one  oc- 
casion when  he  had  cried  because  he  was  too  small 
to  follow  his  brother  up  the  trunk,  and  could  not 
even  reach  the  lowest  branches.  She  spoke  of 
the  bond  between  the  two  elder  brothers ;  how  they 
always  fought  side  by  side  against  other  boys  in  the 
village,  and  she  went  on  to  question  Eugene  about 
their  quarrel  and  the  manner  of  its  commence- 
ment. 

He  told  her  how  they  would  argue  about  the 
past  history  of  Ireland,  about  the  famine  time, 
and  he  quoted  the  two  disputants  in  turn. 

"  '  What  did  the  English  do  in  the  black  '47  ?  ' 
says  Steve.  '  The  potato  crop  had  failed,  but 
there  was  enough  corn  grown  in  the  country  to 
feed  every  man,  woman  and  child  in  it,  and  give 
them  plenty  for  the  year.  But  the  poor  people 
had  to  pay  the  corn  in  rent  and  taxes,  and  it  was 
all  shipped  out  of  the  country.  I  tell  you,'  says 
he,  '  a  million  Irishmen  and  Irishwomen  died  of 
starvation  in  one  year,  and  it's  a  wrong  that  can 
never  be  forgiven.  The  English  Government 
could  have  forbidden  the  corn  to  go  out  of  Ireland, 
says  the  history  book,  and  no  man,  woman  or  child 
need  have  gone  hungry.  But  they  encouraged  the 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  311 

big  merchants  to  buy  the  corn  for  high  prices  and 
ship  it  away ;  they  wanted  to  starve  the  people  out 
of  Ireland.' 

'  That's  all  past  and  gone,'  says  Michael. 
'  It's  only  half  a  century  away,'  says  Steve. 
'  Would  you  fight  for  the  children  of  those  mur- 
derers?    You  can't  deny  that  it's  truth.' 

"  '  Oh,  it's  true  enough,'  says  Michael.  *  The 
English  Government  by  their  laws  condemned  a 
million  Irishmen  and  women  to  death  in  one  year. 
They  let  the  Irish  rot  and  die  in  their  hour  of 
need.  But  wouldn't  it  be  a  fine  thing  and  a  big 
thing  if  the  Irish  stretched  out  the  helping  hand 
to  the  English  now  in  their  hour  of  need?  If 
they  heaped  red  coals  of  fire  on  their  heads?  ' 

"  '  Ah,  the  English  have  short  memories. 
They'll  forget  it  as  soon  as  it's  done,'  says  Steve. 
And  he'd  a  deal  more  talk  I'm  forgetting  now." 

"  And  what  were  your  thoughts  at  the  time?  " 
asked  Kate. 

"  'Twas  all  a  big  puzzle  to  me,"  Eugene  replied. 
"  But  when  I  read  in  the  papers  of  the  bad  treat- 
ment of  the  good  priests  and  nuns  in  Belgium  I 
went  mad.  '  I'll  have  the  Germans'  blood  for 
this,'  says  I,  and  away  with  me  to  the  Cork  bar- 
racks to  enlist.  They  kept  me  waiting  there  with 
a  hundred  or  more  fellows  the  length  of  three 
days.  And  at  the  finish  they  said  they  didn't 
want  us ;  they  turned  us  away.  'Twas  six  months 
later  I  got  the  hurt  at  the  hurling." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversation,  but  they 
resumed  it  as  they  climbed  the  hill  on  their  way 
back  to  Rathmore.  Kate  gave  Eugene  an  account 


312  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

of  the  man  who  had  read  the  newspaper  aloud 
in  the  train,  and  she  told  him  of  the  threats  of 
punishment  for  Ireland  and  the  Irish,  and  the 
epithet  with  which  they  were  to  be  labelled,  and, 
having  finished  her  tale,  she  said  bitterly,  "  When 
they  call  Irishmen  cowards  they  call  brave  lads 
like  Michael,  who  gave  his  life  for  them,  cowards. 
And  now  the  newspaper  says  they're  going  to 
punish  us  all.  Seemly  the  English  have  forgotten 
that  the  flower  of  the  Irish  race  went  out  and 
fought  and  died  for  them." 

Eugene  interrupted  her,  "  Wait  a  while,  Kate, 
and  listen  to  me.  The  punishment  of  the  Irish  is 
only  newspaper  talk." 

"  The  papers  can't  tell  lies.  Isn't  it  printed 
word?" 

"  They  write  a  deal  they  don't  mean.  Any- 
ways, we're  simple  people.  It's  best  take  no  sides 
but  tend  the  farm  and  not  mind  them.  What 
good  is  there  in  splitting  our  heads  over  it,  and 
breaking  our  hearts  with  bitterness?  " 

"  Maybe,  you're  right,"  she  replied,  and  then 
Michael  and  all  else  were  forgotten  as  a  sudden 
wave  of  delicious  happiness  swept  over  her.  He 
had  said,  "  It's  best  take  no  sides  but  tend  the  farm 
and  not  mind  them."  And  the  tone  of  his  voice 
had  implied  that  the  farm  was  theirs,  not  his  alone. 
Perhaps  he  would  have  spoken  more  plainly  as  he 
walked  beside  her  if  she  had  given  him  encourage- 
ment. It  was  beyond  her  power  to  do  so.  She 
was  helpless  in  the  grip  of  her  joy. 

It  had  all  come  to  her  in  a  flash.  She  did  not 
want  the  farm  for  herself,  but  she  wanted  badly  to 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  313 

share  it  with  Eugene.  At  his  least  touch,  at  the 
brush  of  his  coat  against  her  dress,  she  trembled 
as  she  walked  beside  him.  His  words  had  re- 
vealed to  her  how  she  loved  him,  and  with  it  came 
the  recognition  that  this  smothered  love  was  at  the 
root  of  her  discontent  with  life. 

When  he  said  good-bye  at  the  gate  and  asked 
her  to  come  over  to  Coomacarn  the  following  day, 
she  answered  him  carelessly  enough,  telling  him 
that  she  might  come  if  she  were  not  too  busy  with 
the  preparations  for  Denis'  marriage.  And 
though  she  was  quite  conscious  of  her  own  cool- 
ness, she  would  not  correct  it,  fearing  she  would 
lose  all  mastery  of  herself,  and  she  was  still  re- 
luctant, even  if  it  were  possible,  to  yield  to  his 
power  over  her.  So  strong  was  this  power,  she 
hated  to  see  him  leave  her  and  set  out  for  Cooma- 
carn alone.  She  wanted  to  walk  with  him  along 
by  the  sea  and  up  over  the  hill,  and  tell  him  how 
happy  he  had  made  her,  tell  him  of  her  fears  and 
hopes,  of  her  discontent,  and  why  she  had  left 
Dublin,  and  what  were  her  motives  in  coming 
home.  Then,  when  all  was  said,  when  the  talk 
was  over,  watch  him  as  he  walked  beside  her  and 
muse  on  the  charm  of  his  company,  and  loving 
every  turn  of  his  head,  every  movement  of  his  fig- 
ure, picture  him  as  a  leader  of  his  countrymen. 

It  was  a  foolish  fancy,  for  there  are  thoughts 
that  can  never  be  spoken,  moods  that  cannot  be 
expressed.  Besides,  there  was  still  a  barrier  be- 
tween her  and  Eugene,  and  she  was  afraid  to  face 
it,  afraid  that  her  hands  were  too  weak  to  move 
it,  her  feet  too  feeble  to  surmount  it,  and  that  she 


314  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

must  fall  back  baffled.  And  so  that  she  might 
not  think  of  it  she  wandered  through  the  out- 
buildings, calling  Denis,  seeking  him  for  the  sake 
of  his  conversation  and  his  company. 

In  the  evening  two  young  men,  Dan  and  Willie 
Foley,  cousins  of  Minnie,  came  to  Rathmore  in 
company  with  several  other  relatives.  They  all 
sat  round  the  fire  chatting  pleasantly,  and  Dan 
spoke  in  terms  of  warm  praise  of  Eugene,  of  his 
skill  in  conducting  affairs,  and  of  his  tact  as  a 
leader.  Then  Willie  began  to  talk  politics,  and 
he  told  Kate  that  they  were  going  to  raise  a  monu- 
ment to  the  memory  of  Stephen  Turpin  in  the 
village.  It  would  be  a  very  fine  one,  for  there 
had  been  a  generous  response  to  the  call  for  sub- 
scriptions. His  name  would  thus  be  immortal- 
ised, and  the  monument  would  be  there  for  hun- 
dreds of  years  to  come,  to  remind  men  of  one  who 
had  given  his  life  for  Ireland. 

"  Surely  you'll  put  Michael's  name  on  it  too?  " 
said  Kate;  "  it  has  as  good  a  right  to  be  there  as 
Steve's.  Didn't  Michael  give  his  life  for  Ireland 
if  ever  a  man  gave  it?  " 

"He  did  not,"  replied  Willie;  "he  was  no 
Irishman;  he  was  an  English  soldier;  he  joined 
the  army  for  the  pay;  the  sooner  he's  forgotten 
the  better." 

"  You're  not  speaking  truth,  Willie  Foley," 
cried  Kate.  "  Michael  is  of  the  one  blood  and 
the  one  nation  with  Steve  and  all  the  rest  of  us. 
And  he's  a  right  to  have  his  name  put  on  that 
monument  as  one  who  saved  us  from  famine  and 
slaughter." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  315 

"Ah,  what  do  women  know  about  nations?" 
snapped  Willie,  and  turning  to  the  others  pro- 
ceeded to  talk  of  the  heroism  of  Steve,  and  to 
urge  upon  them  as  a  duty  the  task  of  keeping 
his  name  alive  in  the  memories  of  the  people  of 
Droumavalla. 

Kate  could  not  bring  herself  to  listen  further, 
and  saddened  by  the  thought  that  division  was 
again  to  be  made  between  the  two  brothers,  slipped 
away  to  her  room. 

It  was  a  very  still  night;  there  was  not  even  a 
gull  crying  from  the  river.  The  moon  shone  in 
through  the  open  window,  and  frost  whitened  the 
fields  outside.  She  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  at 
this  peaceful  world,  then  lighting  a  candle  went 
to  a  cupboard  and  drew  out  the  old  history  book 
that  had  comforted  her  in  her  first  sorrow.  She 
read  again  of  the  days  of  oppression,  when  the 
fine  flower  of  Irish  manhood,  determining  not  to 
be  dishonoured  by  surrendering  to  harsh,  tyran- 
nical rule,  had  formed  themselves  into  an  Irish 
brigade  and  offered  their  services  to  France.  She 
read  of  their  many  brave  deeds  and  of  the  great 
charge  they  had  made  at  Fontenoy,  wheft,  led  by 
Patrick  Sarsfield,  they  had  won  the  day  for  the 
French.  Patrick  Sarsfield  and  many  of  his  com- 
rades had  died  on  the  field  of  battle  —  adventurers 
dying  in  a  foreign  land  in  foreign  service.  And 
Kate  called  to  mind  a  story,  told  her  by  the  soldier 
in  the  train,  of  another  brave  Sarsfield,  one  of  the 
same  race  and  name,  who  had  quite  early  in  the 
War  led  the  Connaught  Rangers  into  battle  against 
hopeless  odds.  This  time  a  Sarsfield  had  died 


316  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

fighting  for  Britain  and  France.  There  had  been 
unity  at  last;  but  there  was  still  no  unity  in  his  own 
land. 

What  was  hardest  was  the  thought  of  the  un- 
honoured  dead.  Here  was  Willie  Foley,  a  young 
Irishman,  who  said  that  the  sooner  Michael  was 
forgotten  the  better;  that  he  was  no  Irishman. 
And  Kate  thought  of  the  Englishman  and  of  the 
words  of  the  newspaper.  They  had  threatened 
Ireland  with  punishment,  and  had  attached  to  the 
name  of  her  sons  a  vile  epithet.  Perhaps  it  was 
through  ignorance  they  failed  to  differentiate. 
Sinn  Fein  meant  Ireland  and  the  word  Sinn 
Feiner  meant  Irishman  to  them.  And  they  did 
not  even  think  of  the  few  Sinn  Feiners  who  had 
lost  their  lives  in  Dublin  in  Easter  week;  they 
thought  only  of  the  body  of  Sinn  Feiners  who  had 
stayed  at  home,  and  refused  to  fight  either  for 
their  own  side  or  for  the  British. 

It  was  all  a  strange  puzzle  and  difficult  to  under- 
stand. Kate  closed  the  old  history  book  and 
put  it  by  with  a  sigh. 

The  thousands  of  Irishmen  who  had  fought  and 
died  in  France,  Gallipoli  and  elsewhere  were  in 
the  same  position  in  men's  minds  to-day  as  the 
Irishmen  who  had  died  at  Fontenoy  in  the  service 
of  France  —  adventurers  dying  on  foreign  soil  in 
foreign  service.  Yes,  that  was  how  men  regarded 
them.  Neither  Irishmen  nor  Englishmen  in  the 
future  would  recognise  that  they  had  given  their 
lives  for  the  land  they  loved.  Oh,  theirs  was  a 
pitiful  case,  surely  —  to  be  regarded  as  mere 
mercenary  adventurers  of  no  nationality,  their 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  817 

birthright  stolen  from  them.  The  dead  of  other 
nations  would  be  honoured;  these  would  be  un- 
honoured  and  forgotten.  Indeed,  they  were  al- 
ready dishonoured  by  the  epithet  of  coward  so 
falsely  placed  after  the  name  of  Irishman. 

Dimly  Kate  felt  these  things,  and  her  heart 
burned  within  her  as  she  thought  of  the  good  men 
gone  and  of  this  scribbler  for  the  newspaper  who 
so  wantonly  insulted  them  by  calling  Irishmen 
cowards,  and  by  saying  that  "  Ireland  would  stink 
in  the  nostrils  of  the  nations." 

It  was  difficult  to  rest,  the  words  floated  through 
her  mind  in  sleep  and  were  with  her  when  she 
woke  in  the  early  morning.  And,  though  Eugene 
had  asked  her  to  come  over  to  Coomacarn  in  the 
afternoon,  she  set  out  for  it  soon  after  breakfast. 

She  felt  she  must  make  an  effort  to  throw  down 
the  barrier  between  them,  she  must  learn  if  he  too 
made  the  same  division  between  Michael  and  Steve 
as  these  other  men  had  made.  Would  he  insult 
Michael  by  calling  him  no  Irishman,  would  he  go 
with  those  who  wished  him  to  be  forgotten,  who 
desired  that  the  place  of  his  birth  should  know 
him  no  more? 

She  had  just  left  the  farm  when  Denis  hailed 
her.  He  had  some  work  to  attend  to  in  a  distant 
field,  and  they  walked  a  part  of  the  way  together. 
She  told  him  she  was  going  to  Coomacarn,  and  he 
began  to  talk  of  Eugene's  subjection  to  his  father. 
At  the  stile  where  they  had  to  part  he  paused, 
saying  as  he  placed  a  hand  on  the  stepping-stone 
over  which  he  was 'about  to  vault,  "  I  wonder  you 
didn't  ever  see  what  a  strong  man  Eugene  was  to 


318  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

stay  on  at  the  farm  and  bear  his  father's  bullying 
without  a  word.  Surely,  if  he  had  been  weak,  he'd 
have  gone  off  with  himself.  And  he'd  be  earning 
a  poor  labourer's  wage  now  instead  of  having  a 
fine  farm  of  land,  a  good  balance  at  the  bank  and 
he  the  leader  of  the  whole  countryside." 

"Ah,  Eugene  is  weak,"  replied  Kate;  "why 
didn't  he  hang  his  brother's  likeness  on  the  wall 
beside  Steve?  Why  did  he  give  in  to  his  father 
on  that?  " 

"  'Twas  no  weakness,  'twasn't  his  wall,"  said 
Denis,  adding  with  a  laugh,  "  well,  anyway,  Eu- 
gene keeps  away  from  political  talk.  Any  Irish- 
man who  does  that  is  a  strong  man.  You  can't 
deny  it." 

She  did  not  attempt  to  deny  it,  and  as  she  pro- 
ceeded on  her  way  she  began  to  consider  her 
brother's  words  and  to  wonder  whether  there  was 
not  a  measure  of  truth  in  them.  Eugene  as  a 
strong  man  was  a  new  figure  in  her  mind,  but 
when  she  had  contemplated  it  for  a  little  while  the 
old  image,  that  had  been  in  her  opinion  typical  of 
weakness  and  of  hesitancy,  faded  utterly,  and, 
craving  for  the  comfort  of  his  strength  and  the 
wisdom  of  his  speech,  she  quickened  her  steps, 
taking  short-cuts,  scrambling  over  hedges  and 
ditches,  wading  through  boggy  places,  hastening 
through  the  bright  morning,  and  paying  no  heed 
to  its  gaiety,  or  to  the  soft  sunshine  that  fluttered 
in  and  out  of  the  sky. 

A  little  below  the  brow  of  the  hill  above 
Coomacarn  she  paused  to  settle  her  dress  and  hair 
which  had  become  disordered  in  her  hurried  walk. 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  319 

Then,  as  she  gazed  down  at  the  glittering  expanse 
of  sea,  at  the  white  house  in  the  hollow  of  the 
slope,  at  the  rich  fields  rolling  away  to  the  edge  of 
the  bog,  at  all  the  smiling  land  below  her,  she  gave 
an  exclamation  of  delight.  Was  this  to  be  the 
real  home-coming  at  last? 

She  was  afraid  to  attempt  to  answer  the  ques- 
tion, and  putting  it  from  her  mind  searched  for  a 
way  down  the  hill. 

Eugene  was  working  with  two  other  men  in  a 
field  near  the  house.  As  soon  as  he  saw  her  he  left 
his  labourers  and  came  towards  her  with  a  smile 
on  his  grave  face  and  his  hands  stretched  out 
to  her  in  greeting. 

"I'm  glad  you've  come  early,  Kate,"  he  said; 
"  there  are  many  things  I've  been  wanting  to  say 
to  you  —  things  I  couldn't  say  someway  last  night 
I  was  that  light  and  happy  in  myself  in  being  with 
you  and  near  you." 

"  That's  why  I  came  so  early.  I  couldn't  rest, 
I  wanted  to  talk  to  you.  Eugene,  I  want  your 
help;  I  want  an  advice  from  you  badly."  She 
broke  off,  and  then  because  she  wished  for  a  few 
minutes  of  the  exquisite  pleasure  of  his  company, 
the  exquisite  pleasure  of  seeing  him  the  master,  and 
because  of  her  fear  of  his  answer  when  she  told 
him  her  trouble,  she  put  off  the  moment  for  serious 
conversation  by  asking  him  to  show  her  over  the 
farm  first. 

As  he  walked  beside  her  and  showed  her  his 
cattle,  the  outhouses,  the  bit  of  garden,  he  ex- 
plained his  plans  in  connection  with  the  farm, 
explained  the  line  of  its  probable  development, 


320  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

related  to  her  the  future  of  each  acre  of  ground. 
She  delighted  in  all  these  details,  discussing  each 
problem  as  it  presented  itself  in  their  walk,  and 
making  various  suggestions  which  he  welcomed. 
She  went  on  to  tell  him  how  astonished  she  had 
been  at  his  powers  as  a  leader,  how  greatly  she  had 
admired  his  speech  at  the  big  meeting  in  Dublin, 
and  how  ashamed  she  was  at  ever  having  been  so 
foolish  as  to  believe  him  to  be  weak  and  without 
courage. 

"  Ah,  Kate,"  he  replied,  "  I'm  no  longer  any- 
body's servant.  I  can  use  what  brains  I  have  to 
work  the  farm  as  I  please.  And  it  gives  me  a 
grand  free  feeling.  I  know  now  I  can  face  up  to 
any  man.  There's  no  dark  fear,  the  fear  of  a  man 
without  a  sod  of  land,  to  take  the  heart  out  of  me 
and  quell  me  down." 

"You're  a  strong  man,  Eugene,"  she  said; 
"  and  I  was  a  stupid  woman  not  to  know  it  and  to 
go  off  with  myself  to  Dublin  the  way  I  did.  But, 
indeed,  there  was  another  reason  for  my  going 
besides  yourself." 

'Twas  better  so.  I  had  to  make  my  own  way 
first."  He  hesitated,  and  then  went  on,  "  Now 
that  you  say  I've  shown  you  I'm  a  man  will  you 
change  your  mind?  Will  you  give  the  answer  I 
want  to  the  letter  you  got  from  me  months  ago?  " 

"  I  will  —  I  will  soon,"  she  interrupted  him, 
laying  a  detaining  hand  on  his  sleeve,  her  voice 
trembling.  "  Listen  to  me,  Eugene.  I  want  to 
tell  you  the  trouble  first;  I  want  to  tell  you  what's 
bothering  me,  what  maybe  will  drive  me  to  the 
States  again,  God  help  me." 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  331 

'  To  the  States  ?  "     He  gave  her  a  startled 
glance. 

"  It's  about  Michael  and  Steve,"  she  went  on, 
and  so  that  he  should  not  interrupt  her  she  began 
rapidly  to  tell  him  of  her  fears  for  the  two  broth- 
ers, and  of  the  night  on  Kilshanick  bog  when  she 
had  seen  them  hunting  with  their  dogs. 

'Twas  a  strange  thing,"  he  murmured  when 
she  had  finished  her  story,  "  but  surely  it  set  your 
mind  at  rest.  Wasn't  it  a  sign  to  show  you  their 
quarrel  was  over?  " 

"  So  I  said  to  myself  at  first.  Then  I  got  doubt- 
ful about  it,  and  I've  been  doubting  ever  since.  I 
couldn't  be  sure  it  wasn't  a  dream,  or  that  it 
wasn't  in  my  mind  I'd  seen  them  there  so  often  in 
the  old  days.  Or  maybe  'twasn't  their  real  selves, 
'twas  only  the  cold  end  of  the  soul.  Oh,  I  don't 
rightly  know.  I'm  afraid  for  them.  How  can 
their  quarrel  be  made  up,  how  can  they  come  to- 
gether when  now  even  a  big  difference  is  made 
between  them  down  in  the  village?  Michael's 
name  isn't  to  be  put  on  the  monument  beside 
Steve's.  And  every  one  says  Steve  is  a  hero,  and 
all  the  young  lads  are  ashamed  of  Michael,  and 
say  he's  no  Irishman,  and  that  the  best  thing  is  to 
forget  him." 

"  You're  thinking  they  hate  each  other  still  and 
can't  be  happy  because  of  it?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  how  can  the  dead  rest  easy  if  they  keep 
up  the  quarrel  here?" 

"  Will  you  come  with  me,  Kate?  "  he  answered; 
"  I've  something  to  show  you." 

She    followed   him   into   the   house,   and  they 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

went  along  the  passage  and  entered  the  kitchen 
where  she  had  last  seen  his  mother.  Without  say- 
ing a  word  he  pointed  to  the  wall  in  front  of  him. 

Two  new  frames  of  dark  wood  had  been  pur- 
chased for  the  photographs  of  the  two  brothers, 
and  they  hung  there  side  by  side.  They  occupied 
the  same  position  in  regard  to  each  other;  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  had  greater  prominence. 

"  They're  equal  here,  Kate,"  whispered  Eugene 
as  though  he  stood  in  a  holy  place.  Then,  after 
a  brief  silence,  he  resumed,  "  You  needn't  be 
afraid.  Willie  Foley  came  here  and  ordered  me 
to  take  Michael  off  the  wall,  and  he  threatened 
me  with  boycott  if  I  didn't.  But  I  told  him  to  go 
to  Hell  and  pitched  him  out  of  the  house.  And 
that'll  be  the  treatment  I'll  give  to  any  one  who 
comes  to  me  with  that  kind  of  talk." 

"  Will  they  boycott  you?  " 

"  Not  they.  Willie  tried  to  rise  a  row.  But 
they  know  the  Society  will  go  smash  without  me, 
so  they  daren't  touch  me." 

Kate  went  over  to  the  wall,  and  taking  down 
the  two  likenesses  examined  them  closely.  Then 
with  a  sigh  she  put  them  back  again,  saying: 

"  Poor  Michael  —  poor  Steve.  Why  are  they 
all  working  to  keep  you  divided?  " 

Eugene  moved  close  to  her,  speaking  in  low, 
urgent  tones.  "  Maybe  we  could  bring  them  to- 
gether. Oh,  I'm  sure  we  could." 

"  How  could  we  do  so?  " 

"  If  we  worked  the  farm  .  .  .  you  and  I.  Oh, 
Kate,  why  won't  you  be  promised  to  me?  Isn't 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  323 

your  road  a  lonely  one?  Isn't  it  a  hard  and  bitter 
thing  for  me  to  live  here  by  my  lone?  Why 
will  you  go  from  me  again  ?  What  good  is  Coom- 
acarn  without  yourself?  After  Ireland,  you  were 
always  the  first  with  Steve  and  Michael.  Certain 
I  am  they'll  come  together  if  you'll  help  me  to 
work  the  bit  of  Ireland  that  would  have  been 
theirs." 

"  Eugene,"  she  replied,  "  I  cared  greatly  for 
Steve  and  Michael.  'Twas  because  of  that  I  came 
back  from  the  States.  I  don't  know  which  one 
I'd  have  married  if  they'd  been  here.  But  there's 
one  thing  I  know  now.  The  best  of  Steve  and 
Michael  is  in  yourself  .  .  .  and  —  and  that's  why 
I  came  back  a  second  time  .  .  .  that's  why 
I  ..." 

He  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her  with  the 
same  passion  as  when  he  had  tried  to  prevent  her 
leaving  him  before. 

"  All  the  best  is  in  you,"  she  muttered,  as  she 
lay  in  his  arms.  "  Oh,  you  could  never  have  hated 
like  them." 

"  I  don't  know.  I'd  have  done  bad  and  wicked 
deeds  if  the  land  had  been  taken  from  me,  if 
Coomacarn  had  gone  to  Eily." 

She  laughed  softly  to  herself.  All  three  broth- 
ers cared  for  the  same  earth.  However  bitter  was 
the  quarrel  between  two  of  them  in  that  they  were 
as  one.  "  They'll  have  equal  shares  here  any- 
way," she  said  happily.  "  And  you're  sure  we'll 
be  helping  them?  " 

"  Michael  and  Steve  had  great  love  for  you, 


324  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

Kate,  and  they  had  great  love  for  the  land,  so 
let  your  mind  be  easy.  I'm  thinking  they'll  know 
that  you  and  I  are  working  Coomacarn  as  best  we 
can,  and  it  will  bring  them  peace  surely." 

"  That's  true,"  she  replied.  "  They  loved  the 
land;  they  loved  Ireland.  And  I'm  praying  that 
great  love  and  ourselves  working  here  in  the  old 
place  will  draw  them  together  at  the  end  of  all." 

They  talked  no  more  of  the  brothers.  They 
gave  themselves  up  to  the  enjoyment  and  wonder 
of  their  happiness,  each  relating  to  the  other  the 
tale  of  their  dissatisfaction  with  life;  Kate  telling 
Eugene  how  tardily  she  had  come  to  learn  that 
this  dissatisfaction  took  root  in  her  loneliness  and 
need  of  him,  and  how  she  longed  to  help  in  his 
work  and  to  forget  the  past  year,  which,  lived 
without  him,  seemed  to  her  a  time  of  waste  and 
foolishness.  He  in  his  turn  told  her  that  she  had 
helped  him  already,  that  he  had  worked  as  he 
never  could  have  worked  if  she  had  not  been  in 
his  mind.  When  his  father  and  mother  were  alive 
the  thought  of  her  had  saved  him  from  despair, 
and  later  he  had  devoted  his  energies  to  the  study 
of  books  and  to  the  organisation  of  the  Society 
so  that  he  might  prove  to  her  his  manhood.  Then, 
when  he  had  something  to  bring  her,  he  had  been 
met  with  her  cruel  refusal  to  see  him  in  Dublin, 
and  he  had  almost  given  up  hoping,  and  could 
scarcely  believe  even  now  that  he  had  won  her 
back. 

"Listen,"  she  said;  "I  love  you  as  I  never 
could  have  loved  Michael  or  Steve.  I'm  no  good 
without  you ;  my  strength  is  gone  from  me ;  I  can't 


THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED  325 

stand  by  myself.     Just  as  you  need  to  have  the 
land  at  your  back  I  need  to  have  you  at  mine." 

Time  passed  rapidly;  several  hours  went  by 
without  either  Eugene  or  Kate  noticing  the  pas- 
sage of  the  day.  At  length,  however,  the  change 
in  the  light  became  noticeable,  and  she  rose,  and 
in  spite  of  his  protestations  insisted  that  she  must 
start  for  Rathmore  before  night  fell. 

The  trees  and  hedges  were  already  beginning 
to  cast  long  shadows  over  the  grass  and  the  even- 
ing dews  were  rising  upon  the  air  as  they  strolled 
through  the  fields  together.  Kate  found  it  dif- 
ficult to  realise  that  she  had  got  back  to  the  old  life, 
and  that  her  future  would  be  lived  with  this  man 
who  walked  beside  her,  this  man  who  was  so 
beautiful,  so  gentle  and  yet  so  strong.  Her  con- 
fidence in  him  and  in  her  future  was  complete  and 
abiding;  she  felt  she  could  look  to  him  for  help 
and  advice  as  she  had  not  looked  to  any  man  be- 
fore. 

The  beauty  of  the  evening  harmonised  with  her 
mood.  She  heard  the  voice  of  pleasure  in  the 
southern  breeze,  and  in  every  bird's  song  seemed 
to  lurk  a  joy.  The  promise  of  earth,  the  pledges 
of  existence  were  everywhere  about  her.  With 
the  winter  behind  them  the  old  glories  came  back 
in  the  old  forms.  Neither  war  nor  the  shadow  of 
famine  nor  the  menace  of  men's  bitter  quarrels 
could  prevent  the  renewal  of  life,  the  return  of 
spring. 

Beside  the  little  river  that  flowed  down  the  hill- 
side in  the  place  where  they  had  stood  talking 


326  THE  LAND  THEY  LOVED 

over  a  year  before,  Eugene  paused  and  took  Kate's 
hand  in  his.  The  spirit  of  ecstasy  had  passed  into 
his  being;  she  felt  him  tremble,  felt  that  he  was 
trying  to  speak,  but  several  minutes  passed  before 
he  mastered  his  emotion.  The  words,  when  they 
came,  were  few  and  simple,  sounding  clearly  above 
the  babble  of  th'e  stream. 

"  We'll  live  our  life  here  together,  and  whatever 
comes  we'll  not  forget  the  two  boys.  Michael  and 
Steve  will  always  be  equal  in  Coomacarn." 

She  followed  the  motion  of  his  arm  with  her 
eyes,  gazing  over  the  rich  streak  of  country  in- 
dicated by  it,  and  her  heart  was  full  of  a  tranquil 
happiness  as  she  pictured  herself  and  Eugene 
bringing  union  again  to  the  dead  brothers  by  work- 
ing together  side  by  side  in  the  land  they  loved. 
Whatever  might  have  been  their  suffering  she 
believed  that  now  they  would  sleep  quietly  and 
peacefully;  they  would  be  at  rest  at  last. 

Union  begets  peace  as  surely  as  disunion  begets 
strife.  The  strife  may  not  be  of  a  physical  or 
material  nature,  but  this  much  is  certain  —  where 
there  is  division  in  a  nation  the  people  perish  both 
mentally  and  spiritually.  And  the  light  of  peace, 
the  light  of  individual  happiness  and  union  is  a 
beacon  in  the  darkness,  a  beacon  from  which  even 
the  dead  perhaps,  from  which  at  least  some  other 
lives  with  the  same  sympathies,  the  same  ties  of  na- 
ture, must  catch  a  faint  reflection. 

DUBLIN,  November  26,  1918. 

THE   END 

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